


a picture's worth

by oathskeeper, subsequence



Category: GOT7, JJ Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dick Pics, Grindr AU, Humor, M/M, Pining, Thirsty Park Jinyoung, not actually a chat fic, referenced jinyoung/hyunwoo hookup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-04
Updated: 2019-03-26
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:36:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oathskeeper/pseuds/oathskeeper, https://archiveofourown.org/users/subsequence/pseuds/subsequence
Summary: nyounggodare you some kind of troll?the cat pfp makes more sense nowJBI’m not!My friend said I needed more company than my cat and told me to download this appnyoungjesusi promise you that you making friends isn’t what he had in mindJBI’m kind of getting that feeling now, yeahAlternatively: Jinyoung puts his foot so far in his mouth that it may or may not cost him the best looking dick he's ever seen.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a slightly graphic description of a nude somewhere

“Hyung,” Bambam says. “Have you considered taking up a hobby? Like knitting, maybe. That seems like it would suit you.”

“I don’t need a hobby,” Jinyoung says without looking up from his phone. “I’m having fun.”

“Grindr isn’t a hobby,” Bambam replies.

“Unless you’re pathetic,” Yugyeom pipes in from across the room. His opinion doesn’t count, though, because his eyes are glued to his own phone and Jinyoung would be willing to bet money he’s playing Love Live. At least Jinyoung’s talking to people he can actually stick his dick in.

If his dumbass roommates will let him focus, that is.

“Ooh, who’s that?” Bambam’s voice is directly in his ear and Jinyoung nearly jumps out of his skin. Without permission — which shouldn’t even surprise Jinyoung at this point — Bambam reaches out and taps on a profile.

“Bam, don’t — this profile picture is a _cat._ ” Jinyoung shoulders Bambam away, holding his phone protectively to his chest. “I know you’re a furry, but stop forcing your beliefs on me — ”

“I’m not a furry, stop projecting,” Bambam whines, circling around the couch so he can prop his feet up on Jinyoung’s lap. Without permission. Always without permission. “And come on, don’t you want a sensitive guy? The kind who has cats as his Grindr profile picture and gazes into your eyes during sex and whatever?”

“No,” Jinyoung says flatly. “I want seven inches minimum and an understanding to never call me again.”

“Where’s the _romance?_ ” Bambam asks, kicking Jinyoung’s thigh.

“Not on Grindr,” Jinyoung says. “The only reason this” — He glances down at his phone to read the username on the profile. — “JB guy has a cat as his picture is obviously because he’s too ugly to get laid if he shows his face.”

“Maybe he just really likes cats,” Yugyeom offers.

“‘Maybe he just really likes cats,’” Jinyoung mimics back at him before rolling his eyes. “God, Gyeom, you’re so straight sometimes, I swear.”

“Why are you being so mean?” Yugyeom asks. “Like, meaner than usual.”

“He’s been deprived of dick,” Bambam explains. “It’s been two weeks since he got laid. The sacrificial pit demands another victim.”

“Some people need water to survive,” Yugyeom says sagely. “Jinyoung needs — ”

“Why do I live with you two again?” Jinyoung asks.

“Because you can’t afford the apartment on your own,” Yugyeom replies.

“Because you secretly love us,” Bambam adds. “Or like, as close as your shriveled, frozen heart can get to love.”

“Fuck you,” Jinyoung says. “I’m very loving. I let you have the last of the ice cream in the freezer.”

“It was an orange creamsicle,” Yugyeom points out.

“And?”

“I’m allergic to _oranges._ ”

Jinyoung flashes Yugyeom a smile that doesn’t have an ounce of genuine kindness to it. “ _And?_ ”

“Bam, he tried to _murder_ me,” Yugyeom squawks. “ _Do_ something.”

Jinyoung is about to point out that they’ve all threatened or attempted bodily harm to each other at least five times in the past week, but before he can say anything, his phone is plucked out of his hand and being carried away by about fifty pounds of twinky insolence and off-the-rack Gucci.

Jinyoung yelps and leaps off the couch, chasing Bambam in loops around their living room while Bambam screams and Yugyeom howls _run faster, bitch, he’s gonna kill you if he catches you._ It takes Bambam stepping on a pair of boxers and nearly skidding into a wall — they only just plastered over the hole from last winter, _honestly —_ for Jinyoung to throw him to the ground and wrest his phone back from Bambam’s meddling fingers.

Apparently, he hadn’t gotten there fast enough, though, because there’s a little orange bubble in the chat window with JB’s name on it.

**nyoung**  
so i guess you know your way around pussies

 

Jinyoung takes a deep breath. Lets it out. Says in a slow, measured voice, “Bambam? They’re never going to find the body.”

But before he can reach down and finally finish Bambam once and for all, his phone pings with a notification.

 

 **JB**  
Yeah :) I have like five

 

Jinyoung reads the message over at least three times to try to decipher if there’s some hidden meaning. Would Jinyoung be willing to fuck a guy with five pussies? Does it matter as long as there’s something for Jinyoung to get fucked with? Did he leave the oven on?

 

 **nyoung**  
five  
cats?

 **JB**  
Yeah? What else?

 **nyoung**  
you know what? don’t worry about it.

 **JB**  
Your profile picture is cute :)  
The peaches one is funny haha

 **nyoung**  
yours is a cat

 **JB**  
You don’t think she’s cute? :(  
You shouldn’t say that about a lady, she’d be really sad

 **nyoung**  
i guess we’ll just have to keep it a secret between us then

 **JB**  
No can do, I tell her everything  
She’s my girl

 

“Oh my god, are you actually talking to him?”

Jinyoung is snapped out of his thoughts and he looks up from his phone to see Bambam and Yugyeom staring at him.

“Maybe,” he hedges. “Maybe I found a guy with a massive dick and good taste — ”

“He wouldn’t be talking to you, then,” Bambam scoffs. “How’s pussy man? Did he send a real picture yet?”

“We’re not really talking,” Jinyoung insists. “He just...likes cats, apparently. And the peaches picture in my profile.”

“The peaches picture?” Yugyeom demands. “The one that’s like, ‘Don’t squeeze me unless I’m yours?’”

“What other peach picture would I post?” Jinyoung asks. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

“Didn’t I send that to you first?” Bambam complains. “Did you credit me?”

“Why the fuck would I credit you on my Grindr profile?” Jinyoung asks. “Hey, we should totally fuck, and also my obnoxious roommate that looks like a furby sometimes has okay taste in memes?”

“Excuse me?” Bambam places his hand over his heart. “What did you just call me?”

“Yeah, don’t be like that, hyung,” Yugyeom says. “He hasn’t looked like a furby since freshman year.”

“ _Hey —_ ”

Just as the two turn on each other and the conversation turns into them whining at increasing pitch and volume, Jinyoung’s phone pings again.

 

 **JB**  
So...does that mean if you’re mine, I can squeeze you?

 

Jinyoung blinks down at the screen. From the way their conversation had been going, he wasn’t anticipating JB to be willing to take the plunge and properly flirt with him beyond vaguely playful messages. Hell, Jinyoung is almost horny enough to let himself be charmed by a man whose face he hasn’t even seen.

Almost.

 

 **nyoung**  
sorry mister  
you’re not big enough to ride this ride

 **JB**  
How do you know that?

 **nyoung**  
even average guys send dick pics way too early in the convo  
if you had a big enough dick for me i already would’ve seen it

 **JB**  
...what kind of guys are you talking to??

 **nyoung**  
i’m on grindr  
take a guess

 **JB**  
What if I’m here to make friends?

 **nyoung**  
god  
are you some kind of troll?  
the cat pfp makes more sense now

 **JB**  
I’m not!  
My friend said I needed more company than my cat and told me to download this app

 **nyoung**  
jesus  
i promise you that you making friends isn’t what he had in mind

 **JB**  
I’m kind of getting that feeling now, yeah  
But even if I was here for that, why would I send you a dick pic without you asking?

 **nyoung**  
oh sweet summer child  
never let them take this innocence from you

 **JB**  
What

 **nyoung**  
also  
are you implying you would send me a dick pic if i asked  
:)

 **JB**  
Is that what you’re here for? Dick pics?

 **nyoung**  
depends on the dick  
i might want more than a pic

 **JB**  
Am I supposed to send you one now?  
Is that how this works?

 **nyoung**  
if you’re offering :)

 **JB**  
My friend always said my smiley faces made him uncomfortable  
I didn’t really understand why but I think I get it now

 **nyoung**  
are you going to send a nude or not

 **JB**  
You’re kind of pushy, you know that?

 **nyoung**  
it’s my thing  
is that a no or

 **JB**  
No, I’ll send one  
Just give me a minute

 

Jinyoung taps his fingers idly on the back of the couch as he waits for a picture to come in.

“He says he needs a minute to send me a dick pic,” he informs the others. “What are the odds he just looking for a good porn dick online to send me?”

“I mean, does he already know you’re a size queen?” Bambam asks.

“I wouldn’t say I’m a _size queen,_ ” Jinyoung says. “I just have preferences.”

“Yeah, a preference for guys with dicks like Bad Dragon dildos,” Yugyeom says.

Jinyoung narrows his eyes at Bambam. “Did you teach him what that means?”

Bambam shrugs. “You’re the one who left your browser open.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be the same,” Yugyeom says somberly. “Not after knowing Jinyoung hyung was looking at the ones shaped like a — ”

“There was a _sale,_ fuck you very much,” Jinyoung hisses. “I wouldn’t expect a toddler to understand more refined sexual tastes, anyway.”

“There’s nothing refined about tentacles, hyung,” Yugyeom says. “But okay.”

Yugyeom is saved from death by smothering with one of his Love Live plushes only by the ping of another notification.

When Jinyoung sees the picture, his eyes widen before narrowing into a suspicious squint. He turns the screen to Bambam and Yugyeom for a second opinion.

“There’s no way that’s actually him, right?”

Bambam and Yugyeom crowd together over the phone.

“No way,” Bambam confirms.

“One hundred percent certified porn dick,” Yugyeom adds. “Actual people don’t look like that.”

“Porn stars are people,” Jinyoung says.

“Yeah, but you’re only saying that because you want to believe pussy guy has this dick in real life and wants to give it to you,” Bambam replies. “Which is just a little sad, hyung. Denial isn’t cute.”

Jinyoung takes his phone back and looks forlornly down at the picture JB sent him. It really does look too good to be true. In it, a man is seated in a chair in front of a mirror, muscular thighs sprawled wide in a way that’s so casually masculine it makes Jinyoung imagine kneeling between them. His body isn’t ridiculous, but he’s muscular enough and his shoulders are broad. He’d loom over Jinyoung while fucking him, could definitely pin him down and press him into the mattress with ease. The taper of his waist down to his slim hips is visible even with his arm holding up his phone and obscuring his face and part of his chest. He looks too ideal, too perfect to exist, let alone be messaging Jinyoung.

But the worst part of it all, the part Jinyoung can’t tear his eyes away from, is his cock, held up by short fingers wrapped around the base so Jinyoung can see the full length of it. God, just looking at it is enough to make his mouth go dry. It’s thick, only emphasized by the fact that the man doesn’t have huge hands, and it...definitely passes his length requirements. Jinyoung can just imagine how it would stretch his lips, how heavy it would feel on his tongue, how it would feel pushing into the back of his throat and making him choke —

Fingers snap in front of his eyes and he jerks back.

“Stop thinking about choking on dick when we’re right here,” Bambam says. “You do this weird thing where you stick your tongue out a little like a dog begging for a bone — which is like, fitting, but also really gross, ew — ”

Jinyoung feels heat flush his face. “I’m not thinking about it!”

“Good,” Yugyeom says. “Because that’s not even him, anyway.”

Right.

Reality hits again and disappointment washes over Jinyoung, cooling down any excitement he’d felt. Even if JB had been a little cute with his innocence and his cat profile picture, he isn’t the man in the picture. There’s no point to keep entertaining the thought.

Jinyoung sighs. “So, what do I do now?”

“Block him,” Yugyeom says simply.

“Yeah,” Bambam agrees. “If he’s not gonna give you the goods, what’s the point of talking to him anymore?”

“I guess.” Jinyoung looks down at the short conversation. They’ve barely even talked, he scolds himself. There’s no reason to feel hesitant about it just because JB had acted convincingly cute. Hell, if the picture was fake, there’s no reason to believe his whole front about just wanting to find friends was real either. “It’s just — he was kind of cute.”

“You couldn’t even see his face in the picture,” Bambam says.

“Not — I meant his _personality,_ ” Jinyoung says exasperatedly.

“Right,” Bambam says drily. “Because you’re so into personality in your Grindr hookups.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jinyoung snaps, but it brings him back to earth enough to finally click onto JB’s profile and hit _Block._ “I can have feelings, too, you know.”

“We know,” Yugyeom says soothingly. “But you already told Bambam not to die when it was hailing last week, so you fulfilled your monthly quota and we don’t want to throw your numbers off — ”

“Go to hell,” Jinyoung grumbles, but he tosses his phone aside and lets himself fall back into bickering with his roommates.

There’s no reason to waste any more thought on someone who can’t be bothered to be honest with him, Jinyoung tells himself. Even if it is about nudes. It’s self-care or something.

Besides, it’s not like he’s ever going to have to talk to JB again, anyway.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jackson is a very giving friend. He has affection to spare, even if his attention span doesn’t always quite match it, and he’s been with Jinyoung through countless drunken nights, hookup aftermaths, and finals meltdowns.

Unfortunately, one of the ways Jackson isn’t always the most giving is with food. Specifically, Jinyoung has lost count of the number of meals Jackson owes him. It turned from _just one bite, Jinyoungie_ during their freshman year to _I’ll get the next one, yeah?_ during their sophomore year to eventually just _you’ve got this, right, Jinyoungie?_ Jinyoungie is _tired._ Jinyoungie is _broke._ Jinyoungie needs friends who know where their own wallets are.

So, when Jackson messages him _meet me at the Starbucks on 22nd, I’m paying back a favor,_ Jinyoung — well, his initial reaction is to immediately start speedwalking toward the coffee shop, and god help any freshmen who got underfoot. After a moment’s thought, though, his self-preservation instincts kick in and he replies _what are you getting me?_ When Jackson responds _I have a venti for you,_ Jinyoung figures that’s good enough to follow through on.

He beats Jackson there by a few minutes and he sits impatiently at one of the high tables along the front windows. He peers at the people walking down the street until finally Jackson pushes through the door and swings into the seat beside him.

“Took you long enough,” Jinyoung says irritably.

“You’ve been waiting for years for me to pay you back,” Jackson says breezily. “A few more minutes wouldn’t kill you.”

“I’m dying right now,” Jinyoung says. “I’m actually rotting away.”

“You’ve been hanging out with Bambam too much,” Jackson replies. “You’re getting even more dramatic than usual, which is saying something.”

Jinyoung sniffs. “I’ve never been dramatic in my life, thanks.”

“Yeah, sure.” Jackson glances out the window and perks up. “Hey, just to be clear, I’m not gonna owe you after this.”

Jinyoung narrows his eyes, thinking of just how many of Jackson’s meals he’s paid for. “Oh, really?”

“Really,” Jackson confirms. “Because I am bringing you” — He nods meaningfully at the door. — “a whole snack.”

“A snack doesn’t equal multiple meals, Jackson,” Jinyoung starts to say, but then he looks in the direction Jackson indicated and the words freeze in his throat, because there —

There in an over-packed campus Starbucks, a god has descended to earth and frozen time, and he has a mullet.

“I was wrong,” Jinyoung says faintly. “That’s definitely a meal.”

Jackson claps him on the back. “See? I told you.” He waves enthusiastically at the — the god, the Adonis, the fucking physical embodiment of human perfection and shouts, “Jaebum hyung!”

Jinyoung tries not to drool just watching Jaebum’s smooth loping gait as he walks over to them. He isn’t entirely sure he succeeds.

Jaebum’s eyes widen when they land on Jinyoung and Jinyoung isn’t sure if he should preen or pull out his phone to check if something’s on his face. As it is, he feels too pinned down by Jaebum’s gaze to do either.

“Hi,” Jinyoung says, trying to play up his natural cuteness. Wait, is that what Jaebum is into? Or should he try to look more mysterious? More manly?

“Hey,” Jaebum says, and god, even his voice is pretty, smooth and warm. Jinyoung wants to hear that voice telling him terrible, terrible things. “I’m Jaebum.”

“Jinyoung,” he manages with a smile. Jaebum ducks his head and chuckles and hope starts to flutter in Jinyoung’s chest.

“Well, my schedule is just _packed,_ ” Jackson says with a hand on each of their shoulders.”So I’d best be on my way.”

He’s lying and he knows Jinyoung knows it, and he’s pretty sure Jaebum knows it too. For once, Jinyoung doesn’t mind Jackson’s tendency to pull strings and play people like chess pieces; actually, he thinks he could kiss him right now if that might not work totally against his favor.

“I think this is where I offer to buy you a drink,” Jaebum says, sounding amused. “What do you want?”

It’s only through a truly herculean effort that Jinyoung manages not to say something horribly sleazy. “Iced peach green tea,” he says instead. “Venti, if you don’t mind.”

“Jackson’s got you on the green tea thing, huh?” Jaebum asks. “And that’s funny — I had a feeling you’d like peaches.”

Jinyoung is left blinking in confusion as Jaebum heads for the counter to place their order. He’s well aware of his assets, but he’s sitting down, so it’s not like Jaebum could see. Maybe he knew Jinyoung already from around campus? Oh, god, maybe he _asked_ Jackson to introduce them? Should Jinyoung be flattered? Does he already have the upper hand here? Is he going to get dicked down this very day?

When Jaebum returns, it’s with Jinyoung’s tea in one hand and a pastel pink drink in the other that raises Jinyoung’s eyebrows.

“What’d you get?” he asks, taking his drink from Jaebum and sipping on it. If he knows how good his lips look wrapped around a straw — well, it’s just a happy accident.

“Ah, just this...strawberry thingy,” Jaebum says. “I don’t really come here much, so I kind of panicked and just got the first thing that looked good.”

“Cute,” Jinyoung says before realizing that might come across as patronizing. “I mean, you just seemed like more of a black coffee kind of guy to me.”

Jaebum wrinkles his nose. “No, I have more of a sweet tooth.”

Jinyoung leans into the counter and arches his back slightly as he takes another sip. “You like...sweet things.”

“Uh. Yes.” Jaebum bites his lip and Jinyoung can’t tell if he’s affected or trying not to laugh.

Jinyoung holds back a pout. He’ll save it for later, when he knows if that’s something that’ll get him what he wants.

“I feel like kind of a dick for saying this,” Jaebum starts, and Jinyoung’s heart drops. Oh, god, has he been too much? He’s definitely been too much, fuck, Jackson is right, he _has_ been spending too much time around Bambam. “But I actually have to go right now,” Jaebum continues. He rubs the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Jackson told me I had to come help him with an emergency, but I’m pretty sure by ‘help him’ he meant ‘let him use my money to pay you back.’ I’ve got class in about fifteen minutes and my notebook is still back at my apartment.”

“Oh. That’s fine,” Jinyoung says as casually as he can manage despite the fact that it’s not fine at all. So close and yet so far. He feels like a tragic hero, forever doomed to have his greatest desire just out of his reach. Destined to get nothing but his own fingers and dildos up his ass for eternity.

“But — ” Jaebum fishes around in his pocket and pulls out his phone. “Could I get your number, maybe?”

The heavens have opened up and smiled upon Jinyoung. He must’ve saved a country in a past life or maybe the whole planet, because he’s one step closer to getting the dick of the most beautiful man he’s ever seen.

“I would _love_ to give you my number,” he says emphatically. This time, Jaebum really does laugh, and his eyes fold into cute crescents and Jinyoung swears he can see cherry blossoms and hear sweet background music that isn’t Call Me Maybe, which, as fitting as it may be, is not on the playlist of Jinyoung’s life as far as he’s concerned.

When he’s done typing in his number, he looks up to hand the phone back. Jaebum’s face is still lit up with a smile and when he reaches for his phone, their fingers brush like every romance novel Jinyoung’s ever read. It’s fate, Jinyoung’s decided. He doesn’t even care if Jaebum’s dick isn’t up to his standards. They can fuck missionary or something just so he can look at that face. God, he might even ride Jaebum face-to-face, that’s how hot he is.

He’s so certain that the universe is on his side that he dares to give Jaebum a coy smile and says, “Can I get a hug, too?”

Jaebum’s smile grows wider. He slips his phone back into his pocket and then leans in until he’s just on the border of Jinyoung’s space, just a touch too close to be completely normal. “But Jinyoung,” he murmurs, and Jinyoung’s heart leaps to hear his name on Jaebum’s lips. “I thought I couldn’t squeeze you unless you were mine?”

The earth stops spinning. Everything stops and Jinyoung is left alone in the cold and the dark, except he’s in the middle of a fucking Starbucks with Jaebum flashing his megawatt grin at him as he gives him a two-finger salute and turns his back to head for the door. Without a hug, Jinyoung might add.

“I’ll text you, yeah?” Jaebum — _JB,_ that _bitch_ — throws over his shoulder. His beautiful, broad, muscular shoulder that leads down to his pretty tapered waist and his strong narrow hips.

Fuck. Jinyoung is in so much trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cherry: ten points to whoever can guess which line is my favorite
> 
> also neither of us really knows how grindr works sorry


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jinyoung pouts at his phone. “Why did he respond like that?”
> 
> “Maybe he’s a petty bitch like you and he’s trying to get revenge for you blocking him,” Bambam suggests.
> 
> Yugyeom pretends to wipe a tear away from his eye. “It’s a match made in heaven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter brought to you by 70s music

“I've made a very important decision,” Jinyoung declares as soon as he walks into the apartment after his classes.

Yugyeom and Bambam look up from where they’re playing Candy Land with buttons from Yugyeom’s failed attempts at homemade cosplay. They never did tell Jinyoung where the original playing pieces ended up, and he’s never worked up the courage to ask.

Jinyoung doesn’t wait for a response before continuing, “I’ve decided that Jaebum is going to fuck me.”

“That’s nice,” Bambam says, focused intently on the board.

“Sounds good,” Yugyeom agrees.

Jinyoung tries not to huff too impatiently as he waits for his words to actually work their way through his roommates’ thick skulls. He’s learned over the years to give them time to process full sentences, but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t still want an immediate response.

“Wait.” Bambam sits up and squints at Jinyoung. “Who the fuck is Jaebum?”

“And more importantly,” Yugyeom adds, “does he know he’s going to fuck you?”

“The most beautiful hunk of man meat I’ve ever laid eyes upon,” Jinyoung says. “And of course he knows. He looked me in the eyes. We had a moment. It was the most iconic meet-cute you’ve ever seen in your life.”

“How did you even meet?” Yugyeom asks. “Bam, it’s your turn to draw.”

“Pay attention to me,” Jinyoung insists. “I’m talking about something very important.”

“I’m sure the person attached to the dick you’re drooling over is very important, hyung,” Bambam says as he takes a card. “But I’m about to meet the Snow Queen, which is much more important to us as a family.”

“She’s Queen Frostine, you swine.” Yugyeom picks up a spare button and flicks it at Bambam’s face.

Jinyoung purses his lips, weighing his pride against his need for attention. Flipping the board is always a valid option (on second thought, maybe that’s how they lost the playing pieces in the first place), but he settles for saying something he knows will make them listen.

“It’s pussy guy. From Grindr.”

“No,” Yugyeom insists. “It’s _Queen Frostine._ Why do you hate innocence and happiness?”

“What? No!” Jinyoung really does consider flipping the board now. “Jaebum. He’s pussy guy.”

“Oh, the one who sent you the ridiculous porn dick?” Bambam clarifies.

“I — ” Jinyoung stops short. He’d forgotten about that. “Well, just — forget about that. His face makes up for his fake dick.”

Yugyeom lets out a low whistle. “That must be a hell of a face.”

“Remember when he had that Wonho guy over?” Bambam asks.

Yugyeom furrows his brow. “The one that could probably wear like a C cup?”

“Yeah, the one Jinyoung kicked out before he could even stick it in.”

“Didn’t he say something like, ‘I don’t want to bother getting my asshole’s hopes up, too?’”

Bambam shakes his head disappointedly. “Come on, hyung,” he says. “You should’ve at least gone for the titty fuck.”

“Or at least motorboated him,” Yugyeom chimes in.

“I am not a straight boy,” Jinyoung says peevishly. “I don’t _motorboat._ ”

“Not with that attitude,” Bambam replies.

“My attitude is fine!” Jinyoung hisses. “I have a fucking fantastic attitude.”

“Deep breaths, hyung,” Yugyeom reminds him. “The health center man said it was bad for you to get like this.”

“Yeah, and he was just the receptionist,” Bambam adds.

“I don’t have to take this kind of treatment,” Jinyoung says with a huff, striding past their little setup and making sure to kick a few cards under the couch on his way. “I won’t be insulted like this in my own home.”

“Bye, hyung,” Bambam throws over his shoulder.

“I hate to see you go,” Yugyeom says, reaching his hand out dramatically after him, “but I do love to watch you leave.”

Jinyoung is about to say _I’d love to watch you get hit by a bus_ when his phone pings. The notification alone doesn’t draw the younger boys’ attention, but Jinyoung’s gasp does.

“What?” Bambam demands.

“It’s him,” Jinyoung whispers. “Pussy guy.”

“Ah.” Bambam nods in understanding. “So that’s why you just made a sound like you took two fingers dry.”

“Did he send you another fake dick pic, hyung?” Yugyeom asks.

“To be fair,” Bambam says. “The dick was real, it just wasn’t on _his_ body.”

“You make it sound like sisterhood of the traveling dick,” Yugyeom says.

Bambam shrugs. “Biology is an unsolvable enigma.”

“It’s not a dick pic,” Jinyoung snaps. “It’s just a normal message, god, get your heads out of the gutters.”

“Yeah, Gyeom,” Bambam says. “Don’t be stupid, if it’d been a dick pic he’d be slobbering all over his phone right now.”

“Do you want to know what he said or not?” Jinyoung threatens. “I can just go to my room and talk to him without involving you two.”

“You _can,_ ” Yugyeom says. “But what would you do without an audience?”

Jinyoung opens his mouth and then shuts it with a click. After a moment, he mutters, “Get on the couch if you want to look at this goddamn conversation.”

After situating themselves on the couch — and Jinyoung will never understand how it feels like there are so many more elbows and knees between them than there actually are — the three of them are finally crowded around Jinyoung’s phone and he opens up the message.

 

 **Unknown**  
Hey, it’s Jaebum

 

“What does it _mean?_ ” Jinyoung agonizes.

“We just don’t know,” Yugyeom says.

“Yeah,” Bambam adds. “It’s almost like he’s introducing himself or something, but really, who can tell?”

 

 **Jinyoung**  
hi!!

 

“Do you think that was coming on too strong?” Jinyoung frets.

“Didn’t you already ask him for a dick pic?” Yugyeom points out. “I think the ‘coming on too strong’ line has probably already been crossed.”

 

 **Jaebum**  
You’re not gonna block me again, right? ^^

 **Jinyoung**  
hahaha!

 

“Fuck,” Jinyoung groans. “He hates me. He wants me to die.”

“Hey,” Yugyeom says cheerfully. “Don’t worry. We hate you too, but we still live with you.”

“Hate sex is valid, too,” Bambam adds. “Like, so valid.”

 

 **Jaebum**  
Sorry if I was kind of rude earlier  
It was just so funny  
You should’ve seen your face haha

 **Jinyoung**  
i’d rather see your face :)  
actually  
when’s the next time i can see your face  
are you free tonight?  
:)

 

“I didn’t know you could make smiley faces thirsty,” Bambam observes. “But there you go.”

“Jinyoung can make anything thirsty,” Yugyeom adds.

“It’s a gift,” Jinyoung says with a sniff. “It’s how I actually get laid, unlike you.”

“Except you haven’t been,” Yugyeom points out. “Which is why we’re all sitting on the couch and texting pussy guy like a three-headed thirst monster.”

Jinyoung digs his elbow into Yugyeom’s ribs. “Oh, go hump your weeb pillows.”

 

 **Jaebum**  
I’m actually swamped with schoolwork right now  
I have a thing on Thursday so I need to get all my stuff for Friday done ahead of time

 **Jinyoung**  
oooh responsible  
what kind of thing?

 **Jaebum**  
I have a gig at the Blazing Saddle

 **Jinyoung**  
oh!  
the gay bar?

 **Jaebum**  
I mean I sure hope there aren’t other businesses trying to call themselves the Blazing Saddle

 **Jinyoung**  
that’s a little insulting to cowboys, don’t you think?

 **Jaebum**  
Did I insult you?  
Are you telling me you’re a cowboy?

 **Jinyoung**  
no  
but i have been told i’m good at riding ;)

 **Jaebum**  
Hahaha  
Neat

 

Jinyoung pouts at his phone. “Why did he respond like that?”

“Maybe he’s a petty bitch like you and he’s trying to get revenge for you blocking him,” Bambam suggests.

Yugyeom pretends to wipe a tear away from his eye. “It’s a match made in heaven.”

 

 **Jinyoung**  
what kind of gig is it?

 **Jaebum**  
I sing  
I dance  
I get down tonight

 **Jinyoung**  
does that mean making a little love is in your schedule too

 **Jaebum**  
Not on a school night :(

 **Jinyoung**  
maybe i can convince you to be a little more flexible :)

 **Jaebum**  
I’m actually pretty flexible already  
I can bend over backwards

 **Jinyoung**  
interesting!

 

“He really is your type, isn’t he, hyung?” Yugyeom asks.

“Yeah, hot and a little dumb,” Bambam adds.

Jinyoung sighs. “He’s perfect.” Before he can type out a response, Jaebum’s sent another message.

 

 **Jaebum**  
I gotta go now, class is starting and this prof is a dick about phones

 **Jinyoung**  
okay! see you soon!

 **Jaebum**  
Haha sure

 

“Perfect,” Jinyoung says. He wishes flip phones were still in vogue so he could close it with a dramatic snap, but he settles for clapping Yugyeom and Bambam on the back harder than he needs to and savoring their winces and groans of complaint. “Everything is going according to plan.”

Bambam turns to Yugyeom. “That’s normal people speak for keikaku.”

“Fuck you, I know what it means,” Yugyeom whines. “And how is that going according to plan, hyung? You’re not on your way to a dick appointment right now.”

“It’s a long-term plan,” Jinyoung says. “Like, three days. Probably.”

“Wow,” Bambam says in amazement. “Like Jesus. But it’s your dick rising instead of something that actually matters.”

“Nothing you say can hurt me,” Jinyoung says, kicking back and crossing his legs. “I’m getting fucked on Thursday. Even if it is a school night.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Thankfully, Jinyoung doesn’t have any classes on Thursday afternoons, so he can devote his time to more important things. Things like picking an outfit that balances _I’m a slut_ with _but a classy slut_ and trimming his bush into an actual bush instead of a small forest.

“Does this look acceptable?” Jinyoung asks, modeling himself in the doorway to Yugyeom and Bambam’s room.

“Acceptable might not be the word for I’d go for,” Bambam says.

“Upsetting?” Yugyeom offers. “Makes me feel like my eyes have been violated?”

“I don’t need your straight opinion,” Jinyoung snaps. He tugs at the sleeves of his sweater, the black material thin enough in spaces to show his skin.

“If you’re gonna show skin, just show skin,” Bambam suggests. “None of this kind-of sort-of see-through bullshit.”

“Pasties or bust,” Yugyeom agrees.

Bambam nods. “Fuck pasties, actually. Go shirtless.”

“I’m trying to look like a respectable bottom, not a Los Angeles twink at his first Pride,” Jinyoung says.

“Don’t be mean to Mark hyung like that,” Bambam says. "He didn't have any gay friends before that, he didn't know any better.”

“Plus, your idea of respectable is really something, hyung,” Yugyeom says. “And by something I mean wrong.”

“Whatever.” Jinyoung turns in the doorway with his nose in the air. “Don’t wait up for me, boys, I don’t plan on coming home tonight.”

“What if Jaebum has a roommate?” Yugyeom calls after him.

“That’s unfortunate for the roommate, then,” Jinyoung replies. “I have needs.”

Bambam sighs. “I hope his walls are thick.”

“Jinyoung’s?” Yugyeom asks.

“No, like — the _apartment_ walls, Gyeom.”

Figuring it’s best for his mental health and the younger boys’ physical health if he doesn’t hear any more, Jinyoung snags his keys and wallet from the sideboard and heads out the door.

It’s probably a little chilly for the shirt he’s decided to wear, but Jinyoung sternly tells himself that his mama may have raised a slut, but she didn’t raise a little bitch.

Thankfully, when he steps into the Burning Saddle, it’s warm with body heat. Less thankfully, the stage is taken up by five men in costumes of various quality and racial sensitivity doing something that Jinyoung thinks is supposed to pass for dancing. He squints at them, trying to pick out if any of the faces behind the costumes were familiar, but he doesn’t see any that could be Jaebum.

He breathes a sigh of relief. He isn’t sure how he’d handle Jaebum dressed like a bad BDSM porn version of a cop. He doesn’t know if he’s more worried that he’d hate it or more worried that he wouldn’t hate it at all.

By the time he’s flagged down a bartender and gotten a beer, the stage is mercifully being emptied out and prepared for another set. Jinyoung crosses his fingers that this one will at least be less of an eyesore.

“Jinyoung!” Someone shouts cheerfully, and god, he’d recognize that voice anywhere. “I didn’t realize you were here to watch me tonight!”

He turns to see the cowboy from the stage bounding toward him. It’s no wonder he didn’t realize it was Jackson until he spoke — half his face is obscured by what looks like a bad porno mustache. It sits slightly crookedly on his face, but he looks so happy that Jinyoung can’t bring himself to say anything.

“I’m not,” Jinyoung says flatly. “I didn’t even know you would be here dressed as — are you all supposed to be the Village People?”

“Yep.” Jackson turns around and smacks his own ass. “And look! I’m wearing something under my chaps this time!”

“Wow, miracles really do happen,” Jinyoung says. “Hey, I heard about another performance tonight, do you know if — ”

“Does my career as an artist mean nothing to you?” Jackson asks. His mustache trembles with emotion.

“No,” Jinyoung says. “It doesn’t.”

Jackson clings to his arm. “You’re so cruel, Jinyoungie,” he moans. “All you care about is if I finish my business degree, your love is so conditional — ”

“Don’t be stupid,” Jinyoung says, shaking him off. “I don’t care about your business degree, either.”

Jackson’s howl of protest is lost in a screech of feedback through the speakers, and Jinyoung winces and turns to glare at whoever the hell it is that doesn’t know how to handle a microphone.

But his scathing remark halts in his throat when he sees Jaebum fiddling with the mic stand.

He’s wearing a white t-shirt and jeans again, and Jinyoung wonders absently if he actually owns anything else. Even with how baggy his clothing is, Jaebum looks broad just standing there, his presence commanding attention without even trying.

Then again, maybe that’s just because he already has Jinyoung’s attention, anyway.

Jackson nudges his side and gives him a knowing smile. “So you came by for a tall glass of water, huh?”

“That’s not water,” Jinyoung says, unable to tear his eyes away from Jaebum. God, he thinks he can see his nipples through his shirt. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking, though. He needs binoculars for this or something. Do people bring opera glasses to gay bars? “That’s a fine wine.”

And then Jaebum leans into the mic and begins to sing.

Of course, it’s not enough that he looks like a dream and has a cute personality to match it. Of course, it’s not enough that he’s handsome enough to look good in a mullet. Of course, it’s not enough that he has two little moles over his eye like some artist was trying to figure out how to make their character quirky and special. On top of everything else, he has to be able to sing too.

God, Jinyoung thinks sadly. His dick must be tiny to balance it all out.

He forgets about his beer, about Jackson, even about his unholy quest for dick as he sits and watches Jaebum.

His voice is suited to this sort of thing, smooth and bright enough to ring through the bar, and he looks like he was born to be on a stage, too. The lights hit him so his hair looks almost the same silver as the jewelry littered across his ears and neck and fingers. He looks ethereal, untouchable, like some sort of celebrity that teenage Jinyoung would’ve hidden sticky magazine pictures of in the back of his sock drawer. He makes the cheap bar setting look seductive, like it’s grungy and sexy instead of just dirty and poorly lit.

Jinyoung gets so lost in watching the performance that he misses the wall of blue fabric and muscle making its way toward them until Jackson says, “Hey, Hyunwoo hyung!”

Jinyoung almost lets the words slide past without noticing before his brain finally supplies a memory to go with the name. He shoots up in his chair, sloshing beer over himself and Jackson and earning him a yelp of _hey, these are real pleather._ Jinyoung peers over the crowd and sees the construction worker from the performance walking toward them and his stomach sinks.

He definitely remembers those pecs. He was staring at them instead of looking Hyunwoo in the eye when he’d given him his _you’re a lovely person and I’m sure if I wanted a relationship it would definitely be you_ spiel. It had been partly out of an aversion to meeting Hyunwoo’s gaze because he really was sweet, the kind of gentle and loving that Jinyoung could feel even during a one night stand, and it had made Jinyoung feel a little like he’d been tainting something precious even after Hyunwoo had nearly broken his headboard. It had also been partly because Jinyoung had wanted one last look at those pecs, though.

Jinyoung slips out of his chair and shoves his beer into Jackson’s hand. “I need to go be somewhere very important,” he mutters.

Jackson looks at him blankly before comprehension flickers in his eyes. “Hyunwoo hyung too, Jinyoung? Really?”

“ _Look_ at him,” Jinyoung whines. “Can you blame me?”

“For not dating him?” Jackson asks. “Yeah, probably.”

Jinyoung shoves Jackson’s shoulder. “You know I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Jackson takes a swig of the beer and sighs. “I’m sure your gay teen drama was so much worse than the rest of ours.”

“It was,” Jinyoung says. “Thanks for understanding. Now I need to go hide in a toilet stall for the sake of my dignity.”

“You have none,” Jackson says. “But have fun pretending.”

Jinyoung huffs and gives Jackson’s barstool a kick before weaving through the crowd toward the bathroom. He tries not to get too distracted by Jaebum, even when he passes close enough to see the bead of sweat rolling past his jaw and down his throat. Really, he can’t even be blamed for wanting that. It’s only human to want to lick sweat off a boy that pretty.

He hides out in the bathroom for a while, switching between three different apps on his phone to pass the time. It’s not worth the risk of running into Hyunwoo again — Jinyoung might avoid feelings, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t _have_ them, and guilt is one of his least favorite.

Finally his phone pings with a message from Jackson.

 

 **Jackson**  
hey asshole  
Hyunwoo and I are leaving  
come out of your shame cave

 **Jinyoung**  
okay first of all shame is not an emotion i experience  
second of all thank god

 **Jackson**  
yeah okay you keep telling yourself that  
use a condom on whatever sorry bastard you snag this time

 

Jaebum isn’t singing anymore, Jinyoung notes as he takes his seat at the bar again, and he tries not to pout. There was no point in even coming here and subjecting his eyes to Jackson in chaps again if Jaebum didn’t even know Jinyoung had come to watch him.

He cranes his neck, trying to look for a mullet. He finds more than one. It seems the gays aren’t as fashionable as they like to think. Then again, maybe that’s Jinyoung’s fault for being in a bar called the Blazing Saddle.

He takes a moment to reflect that he, Park Jinyoung, wants to fuck a man with a mullet. And then he orders a shot.

Of course, it’s right when he’s tipping it back down his throat that a voice that’s starting to become familiar says, “Hey there, stranger.”

Alcohol burns even more going down the wrong pipe, apparently. Good to know.

Jinyoung turns and gives Jaebum his best seductive smile even though he can’t quite see him properly through the tears in his eyes. “Fancy seeing you here,” he croaks.

Jaebum grins. “Well, I definitely didn’t expect you to show up.”

“Of course,” Jinyoung says. “It’s not every day the Blazing Saddle actually books someone worth seeing.” His eyes drag down the length of Jaebum’s body. Definitely worth seeing.

“Yeah?” Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “I saw you here with Jackson, but I noticed you kind of disappeared pretty quickly.”

Jinyoung sighs. “You know how it is,” he says. “Old hookups show up and suddenly you have to disappear into thin air or else you have to, you know. Talk to them.”

“I — ” Jaebum blinks. “Jackson?”

“What? No!” Jinyoung yelps. “God, no, I would never. Plus, I talk to Jackson. We’re friends. Mostly because, despite his best efforts, I haven’t touched his dick and I have no plans to.”

“You really just don’t talk to people after hooking up with them?” Jaebum asks, brow furrowing.

“Relationships are — ” Jinyoung waves his hand. “You know.”

“Right. I know,” Jaebum echoes. He abruptly says, “Have you been drinking?”

Jinyoung is about to answer honestly — a beer and a shot aren’t enough for him to really feel much more than warm and a little looser — but then he pauses. He leans into Jaebum a little bit and makes his smile just a little wider, a little flirtier. “Maybe,” he says coyly. “My friends say I get cute when I’m drunk.” That’s a lie — they tell him he’s a sloppy slut, but Jaebum doesn’t need to know that. “What do you think?”

Jaebum blinks down at him. “Maybe you’re cute all the time.” Jinyoung’s heart leaps, but then Jaebum adds, “You know how babies have really soft cheeks that you just want to like, eat right up?” He leans forward and pokes Jinyoung’s cheek lightly. “Boop.”

Jinyoung stares at him. “I — Are you saying I’m like a baby?”

“A cute baby,” Jaebum reassures him. “Like an extra squishy one, probably with little fat rolls on its arms.”

“ _Fat rolls?_ ” Jinyoung’s voice cracks.

“Very cute,” Jaebum says with a bright, innocent smile.

Jinyoung stares at him for another few seconds and then says, “I think you owe me a shot.”

Jaebum frowns. “Why?”

“You said I look like a fat baby,” Jinyoung whines.

“That’s not a bad thing!” Jaebum insists.

“ _Fat,_ ” Jinyoung reiterates. “Buy me a shot so I can drink my pain away like an adult. Which I definitely am and definitely look like.”

“Sure you do,” Jaebum says. He pokes Jinyoung’s cheek again. “Boop times two.”

Jinyoung glares at him, hoping it doesn’t come off as a pout. From Jaebum’s pleased expression, he isn’t sure he succeeds.

Jinyoung points at the bartender. “Shots times two, then.”

Jaebum tilts his head. “Should I be buying shots for a baby?” he teases.

“I’m _not_ a baby,” Jinyoung wheedles before stopping short. He eyes Jaebum thoughtfully. “Unless you’re into that.”

Jaebum blinks. “Into what?”

“You know.” Jinyoung makes a vague hand motion.

“No,” Jaebum says. “I don’t?”

“No one’s ever…?” Jinyoung looks at Jaebum, with his broad shoulders and handsome features and muscular build. “You haven’t been called…?”

“Sometimes people call me Defsoul,” Jaebum says. “Because that’s my stage name.”

“That’s — okay.” Jinyoung takes a deep breath. “Shots? I think we need some shots.”

Jaebum flags down the bartender and orders them two shots, following Jinyoung’s whispered instructions to get Fireball.

“You actually like this stuff?” Jaebum asks while the bartender pours the shots.

“You don’t?” Jinyoung asks.

Jaebum pulls a face. “Like I said, I’m more into sweet things. I like mixed drinks.”

Jinyoung hums. “I like the burn.” He smiles at Jaebum. “It feels good in my throat.”

“I don’t even like black coffee,” Jaebum says. “But more power to you.”

Jinyoung almost gives up and says _are you serious right now?_ but he’s cut off by the bartender setting their shots in front of them.

He picks up a glass. “Here’s to your performance.”

“Even though you didn’t see most of it,” Jaebum says. Before Jinyoung can say anything, Jaebum tips the shot back. He gets about half of it down before setting the glass back on the bar with a grimace and a cough. “Why did I do this again?”

“It’s fun!” Jinyoung says. He throws back his own shot with practiced ease. “See? We’re having fun.”

Jaebum looks down at his half-full shot glass. “Do you think they’d mix this into Coke if I asked?”

Jinyoung shoves against him playfully, discreetly trying to feel up Jaebum’s bicep through his shirt. God, he really does feel as strong as he looks. “You call me the baby, but look at you.” He reaches out for Jaebum’s glass and throws back what’s left of it. “There, happy?”

Jaebum shrugs. “Happier than I was drinking it myself, anyway.”

“Well, I’m glad I could do something for you, then.” Jinyoung pushes his hair back out of his face in a way that he knows makes him look good. “Any plans for tonight?”

Jaebum shakes his head. “Just sleeping.”

Jinyoung slides closer, turning into Jaebum so his nose almost touches Jaebum’s ear. “Want some company?” he whispers.

Jaebum turns to him, their noses barely an inch apart. All it would take would be Jinyoung tilting his face slightly and he’d be kissing Jaebum, and that burns through him more than the alcohol. He’s so close he can smell Jaebum’s cologne and the light sweat he worked up onstage, boyish and warm. God, Jinyoung wonders what he tastes like. He wonders if he’s about to find out.

Jaebum blinks, slow and lazy like a cat. Everything about him is sexy, Jinyoung thinks. Jaebum is so completely unfair in every way.

And then Jaebum speaks, voice smokey and deep enough to make Jinyoung imagine it rumbling through his chest if Jaebum were on top of him.

“Not on a school night.”

Jinyoung watches, speechless, as Jaebum pushes back from the bar and waves at an employee familiarly.

“I’m heading out,” Jaebum tells him. “Are you gonna be able to get home safe? Or do you want me to walk you?”

Jinyoung sees his opportunity and seizes it. “Oh, I don’t know.” He stands and staggers slightly, grabbing Jaebum’s arm and then giving him a sorry little smile. “I think I might need some help.”

Jaebum looks down at him, puzzled. “Those shots really hit you hard, didn’t they?”

“Really hard,” Jinyoung murmurs, pressing closer, dropping the pitch of his voice and dragging the words out slowly. “So, so hard.”

“That’s not good,” Jaebum says. “Do you need some water before we go?”

“No.” Jinyoung lets his head drop to Jaebum’s shoulder. “Just take me to bed.”

“You mean put you to bed?” Jaebum asks. He’s arranged their bodies now so his arm is wrapped around Jinyoung’s waist, supporting his weight more steadily. “Or take you home?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung replies.

Jaebum, as it turns out, is surprisingly good at dealing with drunk people, or at least, people pretending to be drunk. No matter how heavily Jinyoung leans on him, Jaebum keeps him upright. Unfortunately, he also manages to avoid Jinyoung’s attempts at “accidentally” bumping their lips together when he pretends to trip over every slightly uneven sidewalk crack.

After about two blocks, Jinyoung gives up and just lets himself appreciate the feeling of a big, strong man (mostly) carrying him. It’s a shame he doesn’t live further away, he thinks. Maybe he could’ve gotten a piggy back ride out of Jaebum.

As it is, he leans into Jaebum and tucks his face into the crook of his neck. The scent of his cologne is stronger here, and Jinyoung has to stop himself from letting out a noise of appreciation. He lets himself nuzzle a little bit, though. He’s worked hard today. He’s earned it.

“This is the building, right?” Jaebum’s voice is gentler at this proximity, deep and rumbling just like Jinyoung had hoped it would be. His hands are careful but strong as he peels Jinyoung away from his side to look him in the eye. “Can you make it upstairs?”

“There’s an elevator,” Jinyoung says. “But you definitely can come up if you want, you know.”

Jaebum blinks. “Are you...too drunk to work an elevator?”

“What?” Jinyoung asks. “No, I mean — ”

“You’ve got roommates to take care of you and stuff, right?” Jaebum asks.

“I mean,” Jinyoung hedges. “They could be out. You never know. Better safe than sorry.”

Suddenly there’s a bang from above and Jinyoung hears Bambam screech, “Fucking finally, hyung, Yugyeom’s been trying to use your sheets for cosplay and you weren’t answering your damn phone!”

Jinyoung looks up at the third floor balcony and then back to Jaebum. “I don’t know him,” he tells Jaebum. “He lives on my floor. We all kind of worry about him, you know?”

“I can hear you, bitch,” Bambam calls. “Yah, Park Jinyoung, do you want your 100% Egyptian cotton blend sheets ruined? He’s already got the scissors. And the real ones this time, not the safety ones you got him.”

“Fucking christ,” Jinyoung mutters.

“Are they...not your roommates?” Jaebum asks.

Jinyoung closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “We don’t need to talk about it.”

“You should go, probably,” Jaebum says mildly. “Those sheets sound expensive.”

“They were,” Jinyoung growls. He almost storms up to the building without thinking, but he catches himself and smiles at Jaebum one last time. “Thanks for walking me home. It’s a shame you couldn’t, you know. Come inside.”

“Maybe next time,” Jaebum says.

Jinyoung grins. “I’d love it if you would.”

Jaebum smiles back at him, seemingly unbothered. “Sounds like a plan. I’ll see you around?”

“See you.” Jinyoung lets himself stand in front of his building for a few extra moments just to watch Jaebum’s retreating silhouette. God, he’s big. God, Jinyoung wants Jaebum to smother him.

Once Jaebum turns the corner and steps out of sight, Jinyoung lets out a sigh. Tonight wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped, but at least there seems to be progress. If nothing else, he knows more about Jaebum so he can figure out how exactly to flirt with him so it won’t go over his head. Hopefully. Eventually.

And with that, Jinyoung heads inside, floating so much on the promise of seeing Jaebum again soon that he thinks he might not murder Yugyeom and settle for simple serious bodily injury.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we were so blown away by the love that y'all have given this silly little au!! thank you so so so much, we're so glad y'all are having as much fun as we are ♡


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll tell you what I know,” Jackson says. “One, Jinyoung is thirsty. Two, you’re not ugly.”
> 
> “Wow, thanks.”
> 
> “Three, you’re the type of not-ugly that gets Jinyoung’s boy pussy a-quivering. His words, not mine.”
> 
> Jaebum makes a pained noise. “Please never use his words again then, thanks.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for more nudes

“You know,” Jaebum says, “I was a little scared to come over when I got your message.”

“Why?” Jackson asks, only half paying attention as he surveys his shelf space.

“The phrase ‘help me with my Tsum Tsums’ sounds suggestive when you don’t know what a Tsum Tsum is.”

Jackson clutches at his chest, looking horrified. “Why would you soil something like Tsum Tsums with your filthy mind?” he hisses.

“I didn’t _soil_ them,” Jaebum protests. “It’s not my fault you’re weird enough you’d call your balls Tsum Tsums or something.”

“Says the one who called his dick Little JB in high school and then wondered why he couldn’t get laid.” Jackson picks up a tiny plushie and points it accusingly at Jaebum’s face. “Does this look sexual to you?”

Jaebum stares down his nose at Dumbo smiling happily up at him. “I’m rock hard right now, yeah.”

Jackson snatches Dumbo back and cradles it to his chest as if it’s a human infant. “I always knew you were a furry.”

“Elephants don’t have fur,” Jaebum points out.

“Is that really the only problem you have with that statement?” Jackson asks. He sets Dumbo lovingly back on his bed with the small army of other plushies. “God, you’re starting to sound like Jinyoung with your nasty jokes. Next thing I know, you’re gonna be joking about fucking a TA. Except with you, I’ll actually know it’s a joke.” Jaebum stiffens slightly at the name and Jackson raises his eyebrows. “What’s that reaction for?”

Jaebum forces his shoulders to relax, shrugging it off even as he doesn’t quite meet Jackson’s eyes. “I guess I just don’t know what you meant by that, is all.”

Jackson snorts. “Right. As if one conversation with Park Jinyoung isn’t enough for you to know he’d probably commit murder for good dick.”

Jaebum winces. “Isn’t that taking it a little far?”

“Is it, though?” Jackson asks. “Maybe you haven’t seen him on the prowl.”

“On the prowl,” Jaebum repeats.

“Yeah, man. Haven’t you ever watched Animal Planet?”

Jaebum pauses for a moment to think. “I’ve seen Nora get really excited about her toys?”

Jackson wrinkles his nose. “Do you really want to compare Jinyoung to your cat?”

Jaebum thinks back on Jinyoung in the bar — the kittenish curl of his lip, the rumble of his voice almost like a purr, the way he’d pressed up against Jaebum’s side asking for attention. “I mean — maybe?”

“You know,” Jackson says. “You really aren’t helping your case about the whole furry thing.”

“I’m just saying!” Jaebum says. “You’re the one who compared him to an animal first.”

“Yeah,” Jackson replies. “Because he treats dick how normal college students treat free food. He’s probably the reason they put condoms in the campus vending machines.”

“That’s — ” Jaebum blinks. “They have condoms in the campus vending machines?”

“Yes?” Jackson looks at him, confused. “You must’ve seen them. The little foil packets?”

“I — I thought they were like those prizes that come in Cracker Jack boxes,” Jaebum admits. “Or like, really tiny fruit roll-ups.”

“They — ” Jackson sits down on the bed and drops his head into his hands in despair. “Fruit roll-ups.”

“I don’t know,” Jaebum says defensively. “Why would they put condoms in vending machines? What if you were really hungry, but you pressed the wrong button and now all you have to eat is some lube-y latex? That seems like poor planning.”

Jackson turns to the side and tells his Tsum Tsums, “Don’t ever listen to your Uncle Jaebum or you’ll never get laid, just like him.”

“I get laid,” Jaebum insists. “I mean, not lately, but — I _can._ If I want to.”

Jackson raises his eyebrows. “Could you, though? I mean, I led you right to Park Jinyoung and you didn’t get your dick sucked, and I know for a fact you’re his type.”

Jaebum opens his mouth to speak and then hesitates. “Maybe he’s not as extreme as you think?” he finally offers. “I mean, we had a decent conversation.” That’s probably stretching the truth a bit, he’s willing to admit that to himself, but it’s not a complete lie.

“About what?” Jackson asks. “How many positions he wanted you to raw him in?”

“ _Jackson._ ” Jaebum reaches over and smacks him across the arm hard enough he’s pretty sure it’ll leave a five-point mark. There might be a little more force behind it than usual because — well, Jackson’s not entirely wrong. Jinyoung had made it pretty clear what his main goal was in talking to Jaebum. That doesn’t change just because Jaebum had found his attempts at being sexy cute and his pouting at Jaebum’s lack of response even cuter.

“Why are you hitting me?” Jackson whines. “Am I wrong? Were you discussing Shakespeare with Jinyoung at a gay bar?”

“We could’ve been,” Jaebum hedges. “For all you know.”

“I’ll tell you what I know,” Jackson says. “One, Jinyoung is thirsty. Two, you’re not ugly.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“Three, you’re the type of not-ugly that gets Jinyoung’s boy pussy a-quivering. His words, not mine.”

Jaebum makes a pained noise. “Please never use his words again then, thanks.”

“So I just don’t understand,” Jackson plows on, “how you haven’t already gotten laid.”

“It’s a medical mystery,” Jaebum replies.

“Your dick?” Jackson asks. “You’re right, I don’t understand how you don’t pass out every time you get hard.” He gasps and covers his mouth. “Oh, no, is that the problem?”

“Is what the problem?” Jaebum asks warily.

Jackson pats his arm reassuringly. “I know we can’t do anything about your receding hairline,” he says seriously. “But if you need to get some Viagra, I know a guy — ”

“I — That’s _not_ what I meant,” Jaebum says. “And what do you mean, you know a guy?”

“It’s not shameful to age, hyung, it’s a natural process — ”

“You’re gonna have to deal with the unnatural process of removing my foot from your ass if you don’t stop talking,” Jaebum threatens.

“I do all this work to get you laid,” Jackson laments. “And this is the way you treat me.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” Jaebum reminds him.

“And yet I’m helping anyway,” Jackson replies. “Could you ask for a better friend?”

“Yes,” Jaebum says flatly. “A friend who stays out of my sex life and doesn’t tell me it’s an emergency when he just needs to use my wallet or get his stuffed animals organized.”

“They’re not just stuffed animals, hyung,” Jackson says. “They’re special. You should feel honored to get to help.”

Jaebum looks at the rows of unblinking stitched eyes staring at him. “Yeah. Honored.”

“Exactly,” Jackson confirms. “Now, come on, this shelf isn’t gonna build itself.”

“I — It’s already built?” Jaebum points to the shelf along Jackson’s bedroom wall.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jackson says. “One shelf is not enough to contain all my love.” He points to a cardboard box in the corner. “So I got another one.”

Jaebum looks at the box and then turns slowly to look at Jackson. “I don’t think I want any advice from you on getting laid.”

“Why not?” Jackson asks.

“Because if you ever take someone home, it’s just going to be all of _these_ ” — He points at the small mountain of toys. — “staring at you while you fuck.”

“Of course they wouldn’t be staring at us,” Jackson says impatiently. “I turn them around so they can’t see.”

“So they can’t — Okay.”

“It’s better than having a cat,” Jackson says. “They can actually watch you.”

“Nothing is better than having a cat,” Jaebum responds automatically. “And at least I only have one in my actual apartment.”

“You’d have brought all of them with you if you could’ve, though,” Jackson replies. “And how are you gonna chase five cats out of a bedroom? You don’t, that’s how.”

“That’s because you’re weak,” Jaebum says. “This is why you’re a dog person.”

“Fine, I’m weak,” Jackson says. “So I need a big, strong cat person to help me build this shelf.” He leans over and picks up the hammer he’s set on the nightstand. “Can I trust you not to kill me with this?”

“Can I trust you not to say dumb shit?” Jaebum asks, but he takes the hammer anyway.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Jackson scoffs. “Of course not.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jaebum wishes he could stop agonizing over the Jinyoung situation. By every rule in his book, Jinyoung is bad news — overtly sexual, shamelessly brazen, and wholly unapologetic. The fact that even Jackson, Mr. Everyone-Is-My-Friend-Or-Will-Be-Soon, still sees Jinyoung as little more than an opportunity for a good lay for Jaebum simply adds to the list of reasons he shouldn’t fall for Jinyoung’s charms.

But there’s something that niggles at the back of his mind. Something about his cuteness, maybe, or the sharp wit he shows in bright flashes. There’s more to Jinyoung — obviously, there’s more to everyone than meets the eye — but Jinyoung’s _more_ seems like Jaebum’s type of _more._

The problem is that he has no idea if Jinyoung would even contemplate showing Jaebum that.

Of course, it’s while Jaebum is lying on his bed and ruminating on this that his phone buzzes with a notification. He’s still distracted by his own thoughts when he opens the message and nearly drops the phone when the image on his screen finally registers.

It’s Jinyoung holding a Starbucks cup, sweater paw wrapped around it so Jaebum can only see the tips of his fingers. He should look soft — his bangs a little too long and sweeping into his eyes, his sweater a warm orange, his cheeks rounder from this angle — but it’s all overshadowed by the same sight Jaebum had seen the first day they met. Jinyoung’s lips are wrapped around the straw in a way that Jaebum objectively knows is impractical, but they look so full, shining slightly because Jinyoung probably licked them to make them look that way right before he snapped the picture. Because Jinyoung seems to exist for the sole purpose of testing Jaebum’s restraint, apparently.

 

**Jinyoung**  
went to the same starbucks and thought of you~

 

Even with how suggestive the picture seems, the message gives Jaebum pause. It seems...genuine. It has a sweeter feel to it than Jinyoung’s blatant passes at him in the bar, almost like real flirting with someone he might’ve gone on a first date with.

Jaebum gives his head a shake in hopes of clearing it and takes a deep breath. There’s no reason to be stupid about it. Even Jackson had known what Jinyoung wanted from him, and he hadn’t even been there.

Then again, some tiny, hopeful part of his mind thinks, maybe that’s reason enough not to completely trust Jackson’s read on the situation. Maybe there’s something different about how Jinyoung treats him specifically. Maybe Jaebum’s held out long enough that Jinyoung’s seeing more to him than his appearance. Maybe Jinyoung wants to spend time to know Jaebum as a person, or at least is holding out hope to get to know Jaebum’s personality in addition to his dick —

And then the next message comes in.

There’s no text attached to it this time. The picture speaks for itself.

If the last picture was suggestive, this one is outright obscene. Jinyoung must’ve bought some kind of pastry with whipped cream because it’s on his pretty fingers and they’re raised to his pretty mouth with his pretty tongue peeking out just enough to be a tease. It looks pink and soft against his skin, and this time he’s angled the picture so he’s looking up coyly through his lashes. That plus the way he’s lapping at the cream are evocative in a vivid way that a simple selfie shouldn’t be.

Jaebum swallows hard. Just looking at the picture immediately sends a shot of heat through his gut before he can even have the presence of mind to stop it, before he even realizes just how provocative it is. His hand clenches around his phone so hard the case creaks before he gets it together enough to tap out a measured response.

 

**Jaebum**  
I sure hope you’re not in public  
Haha

**Jinyoung**  
why not?

 

Jaebum has to set down his phone to tug at his own hair and groan. Of course, even the aftermath is going to be torture. Of course, Jinyoung will never let him just live. It makes it all worse, elevates the pictures from sensual to outright teasing, dripping with intent. As much as Jinyoung’s plush lips and thick tongue draw his eye, it’s his gaze that really makes Jaebum feel like he’s been punched in the gut. As playful as his words have been, they can’t hold a candle to the challenge in his eyes as he looks into the camera. The pull feels physical, base in a way that Jaebum doesn’t quite know how to deny.

Jaebum takes a deep breath and tries to ignore how tight his jeans feel. This is why he should just give up on wearing anything but pajama pants to class, honestly.

 

**Jaebum**  
I’m just worried you might not have access to napkins :)  
Looks like you might need them!  
Haha  
:)

**Jinyoung**  
i’m kind of a messy eater  
you don’t mind, do you?

**Jaebum**  
Doesn’t seem like my problem haha

**Jinyoung**  
why not :(

**Jaebum**  
I’m not there with you so  
Not my mess

**Jinyoung**  
it could be :)

**Jaebum**  
I’m not there though?

**Jinyoung**  
come with me next time!  
it’ll be fun

 

Jaebum bites his lip, hesitating over his response. On the one hand, the picture is quite clear; Jinyoung is upfront with what he wants. The issue is that Jaebum isn’t sure what he _doesn’t_ want; isn’t he the type to run for the hills at the first sign of an actual relationship? The message sounds almost like he’s offering a date, a real genuine coffee date; maybe Jaebum would buy him a drink again and they’d talk about their classes this time, or their majors or their extracurriculars or their hometowns. Maybe he’d actually get a chance to know Jinyoung beyond the flirting and his surface-level beauty. Maybe he’d know if it was worth risking it all again.

The pause must read as encouragement to Jinyoung — either that or a need for encouragement, anyway — because another picture comes in. The cream is on Jinyoung’s lips now, the white a stark contrast to his full pink lips. He can’t be that messy of an eater, Jaebum thinks weakly even as he feels his cock twitch in interest. He must look like an idiot to everyone around him. This shouldn’t be sexy. It _wouldn’t_ be sexy if Jaebum was there to watch Jinyoung make a fool of himself, smearing cream from a pastry over his lips. He’d be as endearing as the night at the bar, over-the-top and yet adorable for it with his soft cheeks that he couldn’t hide in real life.

But the problem is that he doesn’t have those real life reminders, the anchor of Jinyoung’s cuteness instead of his sexiness or the gentle timbre of his voice instead of the teasing whine of his tone over text. Right now, there’s just a painfully pretty boy with cream on his lips sending him innuendo after innuendo, and Jaebum is only human.

 

**Jaebum**  
Wow

**Jinyoung**  
like what you see?

**Jaebum**  
The pastry must be delicious  
It would probably taste better if more of it ended up in your mouth instead of on it though?

**Jinyoung**  
don’t worry i’ll lick it all up :)  
it all ends up in my mouth at some point

**Jaebum**  
Haha  
Cool beans

**Jinyoung**  
…  
cool beans?

**Jaebum**  
Yep!  
The coolest  
:)

**Jinyoung**  
how can you look the way you look  
and then talk the way you talk

**Jaebum**  
I’m sure I have no idea what you mean

**Jinyoung**  
see??  
see what i mean???

**Jaebum**  
I don’t see anything sorry

**Jinyoung**  
yeah it seems that way  
shit  
fuck  
okay bam just called me and i think gyeom might’ve set our apartment on fire  
bam is the one who isn’t my roommate  
gyeom is the other one who also isn’t my roommate  
gotta go  
text me?

**Jaebum**  
Sure thing  
I hope your not-roommates don’t make you homeless by accident  
Or at least I hope you have insurance

**Jinyoung**  
lol you’re cute  
talk to you soon  
hyung~  
:)

 

Jaebum stares at the last message and then down at his lap. “Stop that,” he says to his boner. “It’s a normal word, you fuck.”

His cock just pulses, painfully obvious against the tight material of his jeans. He grumbles under his breath as he adjusts it, turning it so it’s at least tucked under his waistband and he doesn’t have to see visible proof of his shame.

Hyung, Jinyoung called him. Jaebum mouths the word, not even letting himself voice it. He’s never called Jaebum that before. Maybe — maybe.

He fidgets on his bed again, and the shifting of his hips digs the band of his jeans into his cock and his grits his teeth. It’s so hard to hold back when Jinyoung’s made it so clear how much he wants it. He doesn’t even have to worry about size the way he has with guys and girls before — Jinyoung had made that pretty clear in their first few messages before he’d ever seen Jaebum’s face. _You’re not big enough to ride this ride._

Jaebum’s hand falls high on his inner thigh, centimeters away from where he really wants it. Even with Jinyoung’s suggestive messages, it’s hard not to feel a little guilty to do this while thinking of him, while he’s hard _because_ of him.

His treacherous free hand scrolls back up in their messages to the pictures Jinyoung had sent.

God, it’s hard, though. And difficult, too.

Maybe this is just what Jinyoung does for fun. Hell, that’s definitely the way Jackson had made it sound — like Jinyoung likes to flirt and fuck and vanish without a trace. But really...does fucking Jinyoung seem like such a terrible idea? His cock throbbing in his jeans says it might not be.

With a guilty hand still holding his phone with Jinyoung’s pictures pulled up, his other hand undoes the button and zipper on his jeans to relieve the pressure. His thumb brushes right beneath the head and he hisses a breath in through his teeth. He’d meant to just give himself some breathing room, but now he can’t bring himself to pull back. Without his permission, the heel of his hand presses up against the head and then drags down the underside of his shaft, dull pressure and friction that feels too harsh, but at the same time not enough.

He looks at the pictures again and a thought crosses his mind — maybe Jinyoung had expected something in return? Maybe he’d left not because of roommate disaster, but because he’d been disappointed by a lack of response?

Jaebum bites his lip and drops his eyes to where his hand is resting on his cock.

Well. It wouldn’t hurt to just take a picture, right?

Before he can think better of it, he pushes the waistband of his boxers down until he can tug his cock out. He switches his phone over to his right hand, uncoordinated enough while he wriggles around on the bed without having to worry about using his non-dominant hand to deal with his clothes.

It looks all right, he thinks. It looks...like the dick of a guy who’s lying on his bed and taking an impromptu nude. He eyes his feet for a second and then peels his socks off with his toes; bare feet are probably better than one black sock and one blue one.

Other than that — Jaebum isn’t quite sure how to do this. He’s taken exactly one good picture of his dick in his life, and he’s already sent that one to Jinyoung. Is the angle bad? Don’t his legs look kind of like chicken feet from this angle? How does he make his cock look big? Does he actually need to worry about that?

He takes a deep breath. The most important thing last time had been how into it he was. Right now, he’s too caught up in his own nerves, almost on the verge of going half-soft just because his brain is so tangled up with worrying about what Jinyoung thinks.

Jaebum wraps his hand around the base of his cock and squeezes as he looks back at Jinyoung’s pictures.

There’s still a wave of worry that washes over him at the idea of touching himself while looking at a picture of someone he’s not dating. But, he tells himself, Jinyoung had sent these pictures for a reason. Normal people don’t smear whipped cream all over their lips and then say stuff about licking it all up and have innocent intentions.

He eyes the curl of Jinyoung’s tongue over his fingers, presses his thumb into his slit, and imagines it’s Jinyoung teasing him. Because god, Jinyoung seems like the type. He’s eager, but playful. Jaebum drinks in the way Jinyoung’s eyes almost seem to be daring him to do something, and he slips the loose ring of his grip down the shaft of his cock, wincing at the dryness of it. Jinyoung’s mouth would solve that problem — it’d be wet and soft around his cock, probably just suckling gently at first, just to get Jaebum wanting more.

Precome beads up in his slit and he slips his hand up again to smear it across the head of his cock with a fingertip, leaving it shining and sending a shiver through his body. This is probably sexy enough, right? He doesn’t want to go all the way and show Jinyoung come on his stomach after the fact; that seems too far, even with how much Jinyoung’s pictures had been. God, he doesn’t want Jinyoung to think he’s a two-pump chump, either.

He fumbles with his messaging app, almost sending a voice note twice before he finally gets the in-app camera to open. The lighting is less than ideal, he has to admit, a little too yellow with the light highlighting the thickness of his thighs more than his actual cock. He probably should have trimmed more recently, but it’s not like Jinyoung had given him a heads-up to pencil dick pics into his schedule.

There’s nothing for it, though. If he doesn’t do it now, then he isn’t ever going to.

He angles the camera at his lower half, wrapping his fingers loosely around the base, the same as his one good picture. He bends one of his legs slightly, showing off more of the muscle in his thighs. When he’s gotten his dick at an angle that doesn’t make it look uneven or discolored by shadow, he taps the button and holds his breath for the result.

As soon as he’s faced with a picture of his own dick, though, reality hits him over the head and shame rushes through his body stronger than any arousal he’d felt. God, the first time he’d sent Jinyoung a picture like this, he’d gotten blocked. And that had been after Jinyoung had literally asked for it. Sending one now, unsolicited — or at least, mostly unsolicited — feels creepy and strange, like whatever other guys Jinyoung had been messaging before Jaebum. It doesn’t feel like himself, and more importantly, it doesn’t feel _right._

He groans and rubs at his eyes with his free hand. His life would be so much easier if he could just fuck people and move on. Or maybe if he was just a bad person who sent unsolicited dick pics. Overall, empathy and general human emotion seem like a mark in the loss column as far as Jaebum is concerned.

With a sigh, he taps the tiny _x_ in the corner to delete the picture. Out of sight, out of mind. Once the picture is gone, he can just forget that this mistake almost happened.

He nearly tosses his phone onto the comforter and rolls over to take a nap without a second thought before something catches his eye and he freezes. Panic floods his body, cold and sour in his gut, and he snatches his phone back up and looks in horror at his conversation with Jinyoung.

He thought he’d deleted the picture. Instead, he’s sent it to Jinyoung.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cherry says to listen to lovelyz ah choo because she's a girl group fricker


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fine,” Bambam admits. “But in my defense — you are a dumb bitch.”
> 
> “Hey!”
> 
> “Ignore the dumb bitch,” Jinyoung says smoothly. “But listen — ”
> 
> “ _Hey!_ ”
> 
> “But _listen,_ ” Jinyoung repeats, ignoring any interruption. “You can’t turn your back on me now, Bam. Not in my greatest moment of need.”
> 
> Bambam eyes him warily. “I’m a college student, I can’t bail you out of jail or anything. If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be living with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a dick and mention of some weed in here

“You’re adults,” Jinyoung says. He pauses before amending, “You’re legally adults. Like you’ve somehow managed to survive for twenty years on this planet, and you’re telling me you don’t know not to put a fucking fork in the microwave?”

“It was a knife, actually,” Bambam says helpfully.

Jinyoung pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. “Why,” he asks in a carefully measured voice, “did you put a knife in the microwave? Since that clearly makes such a difference.”

“We needed to cut butter,” Yugyeom explains.

“I’m not seeing where metal in the microwave comes into the picture.”

“Well, the butter was hard from the fridge,” Yugyeom says. “So we figured, hey, how do we cut cold, hard butter?’”

Bambam snickers. “That sounds dirty.”

Jinyoung eyes him with distaste. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Anyway,” Yugyeom continues. “So we were like, what cuts cold butter?”

“And the answer is obviously a hot knife!” Bambam says proudly.

Jinyoung clenches his teeth so hard he thinks he can hear his jaw creak. “So you decided the way to get the knife hot was to put it in the microwave.”

“Well.” Yugyeom blinks. “Yeah.”

“It’s what you use to make stuff hot,” Bambam adds helpfully.

“You do realize,” Jinyoung says slowly, “you could’ve just run the knife under hot water.”

“But what if the butter got watery?” Yugyeom asks.

“It’s — It’s literally a fat, Yugyeom, butter doesn’t get _watery,_ how the fuck did you graduate high school?”

“The deterioration of public education is an epidemic,” Bambam says wisely.

“Shut up,” Jinyoung snaps. “I was in the middle of something important before you two dumbasses almost blew up our kitchen.”

“Since when do you do important things?” Yugyeom asks.

“I do plenty of important things,” Jinyoung sniffs. “I was talking to Jaebum.”

“Oh.” Bambam hops up onto the counter, the heels of his feet banging annoyingly against the cabinets. “I thought you meant something actually important, not your boyfriend.”

Yugyeom slaps his hand over Bambam’s mouth. “Don’t say the b-word in front of Jinyoung,” he hisses. “He’ll go into anaphylactic shock.”

“Both of you shut up,” Jinyoung cuts in. “And he’s not my boyfriend, Bam. I haven’t even seen his dick.”

Bambam pinches the skin of Yugyeom’s wrist until he’s cursing and drawing back and then says, “Legend has it that sometimes people like spending time with each other without getting off.”

“Unrealistic,” Jinyoung says. “I don’t get off with you two and I don’t like spending time with you at all.”

“I feel like there’s an implication there that I don’t really want to think about,” Bambam replies. “And you still talk to Jaebum even though, like you said, you haven’t seen his dick.”

“It’s in the pursuit of dick,” Jinyoung insists. “Stop assigning ulterior motives to me, I know what I want.”

“Isn’t dick usually the ulterior motive?” Yugyeom wonders. “And not, like — ”

“Actual human connection?” Bambam offers.

“Sex is a human connection,” Jinyoung says peevishly. “His dick is going to be connected to my ass. See?”

“When, though?” Bambam asks.

“When you two stop getting in my way by nearly burning down the apartment,” Jinyoung says with a huff and he picks up his phone from where he’d thrown it on the couch in a panic. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have important work to get back to.” He ignores their responses as he unlocks his phone, opening back up to his conversation with Jaebum.

It takes him far too long to process what exactly he’s seeing. When he does, he yelps out loud and drops his phone like it’s burned him.

“What happened?” Yugyeom asks.

“Did he try to ask you on a date?” Bambam adds.

“No, it’s — ” Jinyoung crouches down and fumbles for his phone. Maybe he’d imagined it, there was no way it was actually —

But there it is in all its glory: a dick pic from Im Jaebum with no context whatsoever.

Jinyoung gets so caught up staring that he doesn’t register Bambam sneaking closer until his phone is snatched from his hands.

“Holy _shit,_ ” Bambam screeches. “Gyeom, get a load of this schlong.”

“Did he send the porn dick again?” Yugyeom asks, leaning over Bambam’s shoulder to peer at the picture.

“I mean, it’s the same dick, it looks like,” Bambam says. “In my professional opinion.”

“Watching too much porn doesn’t make you a professional,” Jinyoung says sourly and he snaps his fingers at Bambam sharply. “Give it back. Now.”

“Hold on, I’m still looking,” Yugyeom protests. He grabs Bambam’s wrist and yanks the phone closer to his face so he can ogle at it. Jinyoung feels his blood pressure rising.

He stomps over and jerks his phone out of Bambam’s hand so forcefully he almost hits Yugyeom in the nose with it.

“Come on, hyung,” Bambam whines. “It’s just a porn dick — ”

“It’s not,” Jinyoung interrupts. He looks down at the picture again and feels his cheeks burn. “That’s — I recognize his shirt.”

Instead of letting up, Yugyeom just grabs for his phone again. “Then we _definitely_ need to see it,” he says between swipes of his hands. “If it’s really Jaebum, then we need to like, check it over or something — ”

“Quality control,” Bambam agrees. “Gotta verify the dick.”

“I am the most veteran dick checker here,” Jinyoung says, clutching his phone to his chest. “I will be doing all the verifying of the dick, thank you very much.”

“Come on, hyung,” Yugyeom whines. “You always share dick pics with us.”

“Yeah,” Bambam adds. “Just because you finally found a really good one, you’re not sharing it with us? That’s selfish, is what that is. You’re not being a good hyung.”

“What does being a good hyung have to do with showing you dick pics?” Jinyoung asks. “Maybe I’m trying to protect your innocence.”

“You know, that’s actually kind of sweet,” Yugyeom says. “I’d almost believe it if you didn’t tell me to go jerk off to my anime figurines like, an hour ago.”

“Not my fault you ruined your own innocence first,” Jinyoung grumbles. “No one gets those weeby body pillows for pure reasons, Yugyeom.”

“Why do you have to ruin everything?” Yugyeom asks. “And dakimakura are too hard to wash, anyway.”

“I’m going to my room and pretending you never said that,” Jinyoung informs him. “Please reflect on why you are the way you are and maybe try to be a better person.”

He leaves Yugyeom’s whining behind, retreating into his room and shutting the door behind him. After a moment’s thought, he locks it for good measure. No matter how many times he tells them to knock first, they never seem to remember, because _it’s an emergency, hyung,_ even though Jinyoung has told them repeatedly that needing help popping a back pimple isn’t an actual emergency.

He sinks onto the bed and lets himself look at the picture again. Now, though, there are a few messages below it.

 

**Jaebum**  
haha sorry about that!  
wrong number!  
just forget you saw that haha sorry!!

 

Jinyoung reads them over a few times, trying to parse what he’s feeling. Once he gets past the Kill Bill sirens going off in his brain at the fact that Jaebum has sent him an actual picture of his dick, he still isn’t sure what to think.

First of all, it looks like the first picture Jaebum had sent him was really him, and god, that makes Jinyoung want to curl up into a ball and die. Fuck, he’d _blocked_ Jaebum for that and never given him any explanation, and now it turns out that he could’ve had Jaebum’s dick all along if he hadn’t been so quick to judge. It’s a tragedy of unspeakable proportions, which is fitting when Jaebum’s dick is involved, but Jinyoung is still prepared to wallow in self-pity for the rest of his life.

Second of all, who the hell else is getting the dick that Jinyoung’s chasing? Sure, he doesn’t have any actual claim to Jaebum, but it feels like his right as resident campus size queen to have dibs on a dick like that. It shouldn’t be going to waste, especially when it looks…well, like this.

Jinyoung clicks on the picture so it’s the only thing on his screen. He doesn’t need to see the messages and think about Jaebum sending it to anyone else.

Like this, he can focus on what matters — like how thick Jaebum’s dick is, or how a bead of precome shines in the slit. The jeans around his thighs and his shirt still visible make it seem almost racier, like something secret. It makes Jinyoung wonder if Jaebum would fuck him like that, clothes just barely pushed out of the way so he could get inside Jinyoung as fast as possible. He shudders imagining Jaebum pressed along his back, denim coarse against his thighs and t-shirt sticking to his back as Jaebum pushed into him roughly, probably desperate to get off if he couldn’t wait to even undress.

Jinyoung feels himself twitch in his sweatpants and he lets his hand drop to squeeze his cock, hissing in a breath through his teeth as he imagines Jaebum panting into his ear, his weight pressing him into the mattress.

Then again, he thinks as he drags his hand down his shaft slowly, Jaebum hasn’t given him that impression so far. He seems like the type to take his time, to press wet, open kisses against Jinyoung’s neck and up his thighs and probably eat him out before even thinking about fucking him. The thought of Jaebum’s mouth on him like that makes Jinyoung squirm. He leans over and opens his nightstand drawer to fumble with his bottle of overpriced lube before shoving his hand under the waistband of his sweatpants. When he grips himself loosely, it’s cold at first, but the smooth slide makes up for it, especially when he imagines Jaebum’s pretty mouth sinking down over his cock, velvety and hot.

He takes another look at the picture — the strong muscles of Jaebum’s thighs, the thickness of his fingers wrapped around the base, the curve of his cock that would fill Jinyoung up just right — and feels arousal jolt through him, but there’s an undercurrent of something else. There’s a tiny voice in the back of his mind as he takes in — obviously, the perfect dick in the picture, but also the stupid mismatched socks on the corner of the bedspread and the cat toy on the floor and the bucket hat tossed on the desk just barely in-frame. There’s a voice that sounds a little like Jaebum’s gentle teasing, his sweetly innocent comments, and there’s something that feels a little like guilt whispering at the back of Jinyoung’s conscience.

But that’s stupid, Jinyoung tells himself, and he gives his cock a squeeze to remind himself of the task at hand. He forces his eyes to focus on only Jaebum’s cock, fat and red and wet at the tip, before tossing his phone aside and pushing his sweatpants down with his free hand. Once he’s kicked them off, he relaxes back into the bed. He’s naked now, he figures — there’s no turning back.

He lets his fingers trail down, brushing teasingly over his taint before he circles his rim slowly. One finger is an easy fit as he pushes it past the ring of muscle. It’s familiar, both from fucking himself on his own fingers and sleeping with guys. But Jaebum — his fingers are thick, Jinyoung thinks, and it makes him bite his lip. He remembers how they’d looked around his cock, everything almost intimidating in width, for anyone except Jinyoung. With that in mind, he pulls back and adds a second finger on the next thrust in.

He probably wasn’t quite ready for it, because it burns a little, but Jinyoung’s never been one to shy away from that. He arches up off the mattress, giving himself better access to drive his fingers into himself up to the knuckle, imagining it’s Jaebum. Maybe Jaebum fingerfucking him like this — thick fingers spreading him wide and curling against his walls while he’s hovering over Jinyoung, kissing at his neck and jaw and anything he can reach; or maybe Jaebum’s cock, girthy and hard inside him, pinning him down and pushing hiccuping moans out of him with every thrust.

Jaebum seems like such an open book, it’s easy to imagine him running his mouth while he’s got his cock buried in wet heat. It’s easy to imagine him spitting curses and panting and groaning Jinyoung’s name right into his ear, to imagine him falling from his hands down to his elbows to rut up into Jinyoung hard and fast and almost too much, except it would be just what Jinyoung needs.

Jinyoung shudders and grips his cock with his other hand. It’s still slick from earlier and his grip is a little uncoordinated, but it’s easier to imagine that way — easy to imagine Jaebum’s fumbling grip as he tries to work between deep thrusts and playing with Jinyoung’s cock.

Jinyoung squeezes right below the head of his cock and shoves his fingers as deep as he can and feels precome ooze from his slit and drip down his shaft. The slide of his hand over his cock becomes wet enough that there’s a slick noise every time his fist moves over the crown, a sound that would be dirty and shameful if he could stop imagining Jaebum teasing him for it — _look how wet you are,_ he’d say, and maybe if Jinyoung was lucky, he might say something like, _such a slut for me, so easy, so wet —_

It’s with the thought of Jaebum whispering filth, Jaebum gasping and groaning and grunting right into his ear as he shoves his cock as deep inside him as it will go, that Jinyoung’s body seizes up, clenching down around his fingers and spilling come over his abdomen in sloppy strokes. Groans that sound like they’ve been punched out of him slip past gritted teeth and he gets a last few thrusts of his fingers as deep as he can, milking his orgasm and drawing out the pleasure shuddering through him.

As it fades, he slowly relaxes into the mattress. His fingers slip free, and he feels open and hot and wet in a way that makes him curl in on himself a little. It’s one thing to imagine it in the heat of the moment or in theory, but the aftermath is a little embarrassing.

He looks down at himself, at the mess of come across his thighs and abdomen. He trails a finger through it and thinks — if Jaebum hadn’t sent those messages after explaining what had happened, if he hadn’t realized he’d sent them to Jinyoung instead of whoever the intended recipient was, Jinyoung almost definitely would’ve taken a picture of this to send to him. Maybe he would’ve sent a cheeky message like _look what you made me do._ Maybe he would’ve turned the camera around and filmed himself lapping his own come off his fingers and sealed it with a blown kiss.

But the picture hadn’t been meant for him, and the guilt washes over him afresh now that there isn’t any arousal to distract him. It’s one thing to chase after someone or even jerk off to the thought of them, but it feels like something more to do what Jinyoung’s just done. His phone screen glares brightly back up at him from where he’s set it on the sheets beside him, and his guts do a slow, uneasy flip.

Jaebum’s bright smile flits unbidden through his mind and he squeezes his eyes shut. It only makes it more impossible to avoid the thoughts now washing over him — his lame texts, his sweet straightforwardness, the warm way he’d carried Jinyoung all the way home without letting his hands stray below his waist even once.

Jinyoung rolls over, shoves his face into his pillow, and screams.

 

 

* * *

 

 

A reasonable amount of time later — at least, later enough that the younger boys wouldn’t call him out on smelling like jizz — Jinyoung plops onto the couch, cuddles up to Bambam, and croons, “My favorite dongsaeng.”

“Rude!” Yugyeom cries from the half-collapsed chair across from them. “Don’t believe a word he says, Bam.”

“Why not?” Jinyoung asks, fully prepared to commit murder before Yugyeom can answer.

“Yeah,” Bambam adds. “Why not? You just don’t want to admit I’m cuter than you?”

“First of all, that’s a goddamn lie,” Yugyeom replies. “And second of all, last week, Jinyoung hyung said I was his favorite dongsaeng just because I got those chips he liked and he wanted some.”

Bambam gasps and turns to give Jinyoung an affronted look. “Is this... _true?_ ” he whispers, sounding scandalized.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Yugyeom complains. “You were literally sitting there calling me a dumb bitch for falling for it afterward.”

“Fine,” Bambam admits. “But in my defense — you are a dumb bitch.”

“Hey!”

“Ignore the dumb bitch,” Jinyoung says smoothly. “But listen — ”

“ _Hey!_ ”

“But _listen,_ ” Jinyoung repeats, ignoring any interruption. “You can’t turn your back on me now, Bam. Not in my greatest moment of need.”

Bambam eyes him warily. “I’m a college student, I can’t bail you out of jail or anything. If I had that kind of money, I wouldn’t be living with you.”

“It’s not that kind of need,” Jinyoung says, growing a little impatient.

Bambam’s eyes widen with understanding. “ _Oh._ Okay. Yeah, I totally know a guy that can hook you up. He doesn’t make brownies because, like, caffeine is bad for you or whatever, but he does make blondies that’ll make you see Jesus — ”

“I — _what?_ ” Jinyoung asks.

“You know, like,” — Bambam raises his eyebrows in a way that’s probably supposed to be meaningful but just comes across as vaguely constipated. — “ _brownies._ But blondies.”

“I don’t care about your devil’s lettuce,” Jinyoung snaps. “I’m worried about dick, here.”

“Yeah, Bam,” Yugyeom chimes in. “What else would Jinyoung hyung be thinking about other than dick? Who’s the dumb bitch now, _bitch?_ ”

“Still you,” Jinyoung says before addressing Bambam again. “Listen, all I need is a social event I can invite Jaebum to as a thinly veiled excuse to touch his dick.”

Bambam lets out a low whistle. “You really have no shame, huh?”

Jinyoung feels his cheeks heat up as an unwanted memory from earlier flashes through his mind. “I try not to. It makes life easier.”

Bambam pats his cheek in an infuriatingly patronizing way. Jinyoung only barely resists the urge to bite at his hand, and it’s only because he still needs information from him. “Don’t worry, hyung,” he assures him. “I’ve got you. The Apple Pie guys owe me a favor.”

“The — ” Jinyoung blanches. “I’m sorry, what?”

“The Alpha Omega Pi guys,” Yugyeom cuts in. “Bam doesn’t get how Greek letters work.”

“Who the fuck has time for a whole new alphabet?” Bambam grumbles. “Learn Thai and then come talk to me about this bullshit _Greek_ system.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Jinyoung pokes Bambam’s shoulder. “What’s this about them owing you a favor, though?”

“Well, they usually have sticks up their asses about paying a cover to get into their parties or whatever, right?” Bambam explains. “Especially for dudes.”

Jinyoung wrinkles his nose. “Straight men and capitalism combined. Disgusting.”

“I don’t think it’s capitalism if they’re just trying to cover the cost of drinks — ” Yugyeom offers.

Jinyoung throws him a withering look. “That’s what they want you to think.”

“Anyway,” Bambam continues. “I could get you and Jaebum in for free, probably. With just a little blackmail, which is fun, anyway. Also, I complimented Minghao on his mullet, so that was a plus.”

Jinyoung feels his obligatory scathing comment about mullets rise to the tip of his tongue, but it dies there when he remembers that he’s the worst offender of all. He doesn’t have a mullet, but he wants to _fuck_ the mullet, which is arguably worse. One look at Yugyeom and Bambam’s triumphant grins confirms his suspicions. He’s a mullet fucker for life, and he’s never going to shed this shame.

It only steels his resolve to make it all worth it.

“All right,” Jinyoung says. “So when’s this party?”

Bambam grins at him, and Jinyoung tries not to let himself regret asking for help. “When do you want it to be, bitch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all!! sorry it's been a little while, i (mia) have been out of the country for a bit and am still recovering from jet lag, along with dealing with irl deadlines (and also stressing about my other wip lmao). thank you guys so much for being so patient with us! cherry says she's just along for the ride, but also wanted to thank you guys for your continuing support despite our update schedule being a wreck. thank y'all so much ♡♡♡


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Your neck,” Jinyoung croaks. “It’s naked.”
> 
> Jaebum’s face splits into a shy grin, and he rubs at his nape self-consciously with a chuckle. “Ah, yeah, the long hair was getting to be kind of a pain, so — off it went.” He licks his lips awkwardly. “Is it — does it look okay?”
> 
> Jinyoung’s completely forgotten that his roommates are behind him and can easily see the doorway, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Bambam screeches, “Okay? Bitch, you look _fine._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for this chapter for drunk fooling around, but not actual sex
> 
> much love and thanks to [mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee) for looking this over for us!!

**Jinyoung**  
i have a question for you

 **Jaebum**  
Oh god

 **Jinyoung**  
what are you doing on friday

 **Jaebum**  
What?

 **Jinyoung**  
what do you mean what  
friday  
are you free

 **Jaebum**  
I thought your question was going to be what was wrong with me, honestly

 **Jinyoung**  
why?

 **Jaebum**  
Well the last time I sent you a picture you blocked me so

 **Jinyoung**  
oh right  
just a mistake~  
a slip of the finger :)

 **Jaebum**  
Mood

 **Jinyoung**  
what  
you can’t talk like that

 **Jaebum**  
Like what?

 **Jinyoung**  
like a normal person  
it’s weird  
say cool beans again

 **Jaebum**  
...cool beans?

 **Jinyoung**  
there he is  
now answer the question

 **Jaebum**  
You really weren’t lying the first time we talked when you said being pushy was your thing, were you?

 **Jinyoung**  
but it’s cute right  
right?

 **Jaebum**  
Right  
Like a fat baby :)

 **Jinyoung**  
WOW  
NEVER MIND  
INVITATION RESCINDED  
I REALLY WILL BLOCK YOU AGAIN

 **Jaebum**  
But why? :(

 **Jinyoung**  
don’t look at me like that

 **Jaebum**  
Like what? :(

 **Jinyoung**  
oh my god  
maybe you’re the fat baby here

 **Jaebum**  
Maybe the real fat baby is the friends we made along the way  
Also are you calling me cute?

 **Jinyoung**  
i don’t know  
am i ;)

 **Jaebum**  
Haha  
So what’s the invitation to?

 **Jinyoung**  
a party~

 **Jaebum**  
What kind of party?  
Like a suit with sneakers party or a Snoop Dogg t-shirt party?

 **Jinyoung**  
i  
i don’t know what either of those mean  
what kind of parties do you think i go to hyung~

 **Jaebum**  
I don’t know  
You seem classy sometimes

 **Jinyoung**  
oh  
really??  
and what do you mean sometimes?

 **Jaebum**  
When you don’t need me to carry you home  
Or like  
Other things  
Never mind

 **Jinyoung**  
other things?

 **Jaebum**  
What time’s the party?

 **Jinyoung**  
it’s off campus but we’re gonna walk  
so you can come meet at my place around 9:30?  
and we can walk together :)

 **Jaebum**  
Nice  
Try not to get too trashed this time  
I think you almost broke my back last time

 **Jinyoung**  
how many indirect jabs are you going to make at my weight :(  
how are you going to make it up to me hyung :((

 **Jaebum**  
That’s not what I meant!!!  
I have a bad back  
It’s not about you

 **Jinyoung**  
oh really?  
hm  
i guess we can make that work

 **Jaebum**  
What

 **Jinyoung**  
don’t worry about it~  
don’t forget  
9:30 on friday at my place  
see you then hyung~

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jinyoung has a very important pregaming ritual that involves a sheet mask, boxed white wine that lives in their pantry, and very thorough cleansing both inside and out. He likes to think of it as extra motivation to get laid — the last thing he wants is to have done all this preparation for nothing. It’s more than a clean asshole, it’s a _mindset._ A zone. A state of being. He’s cleaned up and dressed up and daintily sipping wine out of a rinsed-out nutella jar, and he’s fully prepared to spiritually connect with the universe in the pursuit of dick.

It’s difficult to focus on anything except his roommates very loudly being idiots, though.

“What does this Jaebum guy even look like?” Yugyeom asks, lazily flicking the controller in his hand at the screen as he lounges on the couch. Jinyoung is pretty sure this isn’t how Wii Sports is meant to be played, but he figures that their TV screen and windows are at less risk than if his roommates were flailing about with remotes, so he bites back his criticism.

“Like the seventies and the nineties had a kid and never taught him to dress himself,” Bambam replies.

“It’s not that bad!” Jinyoung cuts in.

“He has,” Bambam says slowly, “a _mullet._ ”

“Yeah, well — ” Jinyoung splutters and then points at the other end of the couch accusingly. “Yugyeom is going to have a mullet in about two weeks if he doesn’t get a haircut soon.”

“The last time you tried to cut my hair, you gave me a bowl cut!” Yugyeom protests. “At least a mullet doesn’t make me look like I placed last in math olympiad or something.”

“I was trying to _help_ you,” Jinyoung sniffs.

“Were you?” Yugyeom asks. “Were you _really?_ ”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung snaps. “It fooled people into thinking you had more than one brain cell, for once.”

“Wow,” Yugyeom says. “And you wonder why Jaebum doesn’t want to fuck you.”

Yugyeom is incredibly lucky that a knock on the door saves him from a fate worse than death. Jinyoung doesn’t know what it would’ve been, exactly, but he knows it would’ve felt good.

He gives Yugyeom one final glare over his shoulder as he heads for the door, grabbing his keys and wallet along the way.

He’s definitely not thinking about Yugyeom anymore when he opens the door and sees Jaebum, though.

The first thought that hits him is that Jaebum apparently does have a body underneath the baggy clothes he usually likes to wear, because for once, he’s chosen something tighter. As if a leather jacket across his broad shoulders wasn’t painful enough for Jinyoung already, his t-shirt is tucked into jeans so tight that Jinyoung’s shocked they don’t just burst at the seams. God, have his thighs always been this thick? Was it necessary to have rips running across the denim and showing off soft golden skin? Most importantly, where is he hiding his _dick?_

Jaebum clears his throat and Jinyoung’s eyes snap up guiltily to his face. If they linger for just a moment on Jaebum’s belt buckle and how it emphasizes his slim hips, they don’t need to talk about it.

When he finally drags his gaze up, he’s hit again with how attractive Jaebum is. There’s the sharp lines of his features and the silver dangling from his ears as always, but today, his hair is swept back from his face and —

“Your neck,” Jinyoung croaks. “It’s naked.”

Jaebum’s face splits into a shy grin, and he rubs at his nape self-consciously with a chuckle. “Ah, yeah, the long hair was getting to be kind of a pain, so — off it went.” He licks his lips awkwardly. “Is it — does it look okay?”

Jinyoung’s completely forgotten that his roommates are behind him and can easily see the doorway, and he nearly jumps out of his skin when Bambam screeches, “Okay? Bitch, you look _fine._ ”

Jinyoung only just stops himself from slamming the door in Jaebum’s face so he can rip Bambam a new one. He should never have told Jaebum to meet here. Of course, Bambam and Yugyeom would find a way to ruin everything.

But all Jaebum does is laugh again at the compliment, ducking his head to hide his face. “Isn’t that your not-roommate?” he asks.

“Right.” Jinyoung smiles. “Thanks for reminding me, I was just about to call the cops on them for breaking and entering.”

“You can’t do this to me,” Yugyeom calls. “I pay _rent._ Sometimes I even replace the toilet paper when it runs out.”

“And we have to put up with you and your porn star noises,” Bambam adds. “Jaebum, I’m telling you right now, going by what we hear through the walls, you’re gonna want ear plugs at close range — ”

“We’re leaving!” Jinyoung says, trying to ignore how startled Jaebum seems by Yugyeom and Bambam’s comments. “Don’t break the microwave or I’ll break you.”

“I thought you’d want to be the one getting broken,” Yugyeom says. “Or is that just with Jaebum — ”

Jinyoung steps over the threshold and slams the door pointedly, taking satisfaction from the way it reverberates in the frame. He lets out a slow breath. “Sorry about them,” he says. “They’re just...always like that.”

Jaebum shrugs. “It’s all right. I mean, it tells me more about you, too.”

“Excuse me?” Jinyoung asks. “Are you saying I’m like them?”

“Uh.” Jaebum blinks. “Are you saying you’re not?”

“They’re — I’m — ” Jinyoung splutters. “Do you _hate_ me?”

Jaebum snorts. “Obviously not, or I wouldn’t be here.”

Jinyoung tries not to pout. “Here, _insulting_ me in my house, on the day of my daughter’s wedding — ”

“Oh my god.” Jaebum bumps his shoulder against Jinyoung’s as he laughs, the leather warm from his skin, and Jinyoung feels his offense at Jaebum’s words melt away in the face of his good humor. “Are you always ridiculous in some way?”

“I’m not ridiculous,” Jinyoung sulks before pausing for a moment. “Unless you like that.”

“I — ” Jaebum snorts out a laugh as if he can’t help himself. The sound buoys Jinyoung up, settles in his chest all warm and light — just because being on Jaebum’s good side means being closer to getting laid. Obviously. “I don’t think you could stop being ridiculous if you tried, Jinyoung.”

“I can be serious,” Jinyoung protests. “I’m very serious about important things.”

“Important things,” Jaebum repeats, his smile still coloring his voice, making it go all soft around the edges. “Right. Like what?”

Jinyoung lets his gaze drag down the length of Jaebum’s body appreciatively. “Just...things.”

Jaebum coughs, shoves his hands in his pockets, and glances down the street. “Which way’s the party?”

Jinyoung loops his arm through Jaebum’s and tugs. He feels so strong, but he follows Jinyoung’s lead so easily.

“This way.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jinyoung can’t lie — with the bad back comments and the general geriatric sense of humor, he’s been worried that Jaebum might not be able to move well, or at all. Sure, Jinyoung has the thighs to ride Jaebum into the sunset, but he’d rather not resort to that if he doesn’t have to.

This, though. This is better than he’d dared to imagine.

They both have a few drinks in them at this point, just enough that Jaebum went from coolly swaying to the music to properly dancing with Jinyoung. The grin that lights up Jaebum’s face as they move makes Jinyoung’s mouth curl up in a smile too. It could be the alcohol, but Jinyoung gets the feeling that Jaebum is genuinely enjoying himself, is genuinely enjoying _this._

And Jinyoung? It’s been a while since he danced just for the sake of dancing, without grinding his ass back against someone and throwing a look over his shoulder that he knows will get him shoved against the wall of a bathroom stall later on. It’s been a while since he danced and could see his partner’s face, if he’s honest with himself.

It must be the alcohol, he thinks. It’s making him lose focus of what’s important.

Jaebum’s hands smooth down Jinyoung’s forearms until he reaches his hands, and then he tangles their fingers together, his grin melting into something gentler. He leans in enough that Jinyoung can hear him over the music when he asks, “Are you having fun?”

“Of course,” Jinyoung replies automatically. “I always have fun when I’m with you.” It’s a line, he knows it. He _does._ It’s just that — sometimes everything gets a little too fuzzy, a little too warm when he’s drunk. Sometimes, the buzz of alcohol in his blood can start to feel a little like something else.

He knows what he should say next — probably something like _I know what would be more fun, though,_ accompanied by the press of his body up against Jaebum’s, maybe wrapping his arms around Jaebum’s neck — but then Jaebum smiles so brightly that his eyes almost disappear into pretty crescents, and every thought is wiped from Jinyoung’s mind.

One of Jaebum’s hands comes up to rest on Jinyoung’s waist. He’s not grabbing or pushing or really being forceful at all. He’s just holding him, like they’re not in a crowd of sweaty, shitfaced undergrads, like there’s no rush or worry or anything outside the pair of them dancing. Like he’s happy with just that easy point of contact between them.

“You’re softer than you look,” Jaebum says, his hand squeezing at Jinyoung’s curves, but it doesn’t feel like anything but fond teasing. “You’re definitely the fat baby between us.”

A laugh bursts out of Jinyoung, his forehead falling onto Jaebum’s shoulder as he giggles. This close, he can feel the way Jaebum’s broad chest rises and falls with each puff of laughter. He _wants_ — wants to feel the width of Jaebum’s body against his back as he presses him into the mattress, sure, but also wants to turn his face into Jaebum’s neck until the scent of his cologne is imprinted on his brain, wants Jaebum’s muscular arms wrapped around him, strong and safe. He thinks he wouldn’t mind waking up next to Jaebum with his head pillowed on his chest and the rumble of a snore in his ear, even if they didn’t do anything but dance with their fingers linked like this —

Jinyoung staggers back. Jaebum’s hand falls from his waist.

“I need another drink,” Jinyoung shouts, the distance he’s put between them warranting the raised volume. “You want one?”

Jaebum looks a little startled, a little adrift in the crowd instead of comfortable for the first time tonight. “I’m good,” he replies. “But I’ll come with you.”

Jinyoung can’t bring himself to untangle their fingers as he heads over to the bar.

“Give me four shots,” he tells the pimply pledge standing behind it. “Whatever’s strongest.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Jaebum asks as the shots are being poured. He’s being pushed against Jinyoung by the crowd at his back, and Jinyoung suppresses a shiver at the feeling.

“I can take care of myself,” Jinyoung says petulantly. “Everything is under control. I am the _most_ under control.” He wishes he could speak it into existence.

For now, he’ll settle for grabbing the first shot as soon as it’s ready and knocking it back, already drunk enough that it barely burns on the way down. He gets through two more and is reaching for the fourth when Jaebum’s hand is on his wrist, spilling half the shot over their skin.

Jinyoung pouts at him. “Look what you did.”

“Just set the glass down,” Jaebum says. “I really don’t think you need any more than that. They’re gonna hit you pretty hard.”

“At least something will,” Jinyoung mutters before pressing back against Jaebum and letting his head loll back against his shoulder with a grin. “Unless you wanna make an offer.”

Jaebum clears his throat. “My mama always taught me that hitting is bad.”

“Do you always do what your mama tells you?” Jinyoung asks, letting his hips tilt back until his ass is pressed to Jaebum’s crotch.

“For the most part,” Jaebum chokes out. “Do you want some water? We should get you some water. Wow, hydration is neat — ”

“But hyung,” Jinyoung whines. “I’m not thirsty for water.”

He can feel Jaebum’s breath hitch in his chest. “How about, um, gatorade or something? They probably have that, right?”

He turns to face Jaebum and drags the flats his hands over Jaebum’s pecs, down his front. “ _Hyung._ ”

Jaebum stares with wide eyes down at Jinyoung’s hands, then grabs the half-shot left over and tosses it back. The face he pulls makes Jinyoung laugh hard enough that he stumbles against Jaebum.

He leans in until his lips brush against Jaebum’s ear. “Dance with me some more, hyung?”

Jaebum gulps, but he follows easily as Jinyoung pulls him back toward the crowd of dancing bodies.

It’s easier this time, and it gets even easier as the shots hit him. He’s not thinking about waking up next to Jaebum; hell, he can’t fully conceptualize the idea of tomorrow morning. All he can think about is the way he feels swallowed up by Jaebum’s looming presence behind him and how he wishes they could press that much closer, feel that much more of him.

But they can’t do anything out here surrounded by so many people.

Jinyoung’s drunk body slips into autopilot, sending a hand back to grip the nape of Jaebum’s neck as Jinyoung clumsily tells him, “I think you were right about those shots, hyung. Can you help me find someplace to lie down for a while?”

“I — ” Jaebum tenses behind him. “Yeah, I can.”

Jinyoung had asked for the help because he wanted to get Jaebum in a place where there was at least potential of getting his dick out, but it turns out that he might actually need it. He swears the steps aren’t quite where they appear to be as they make their way upstairs, and gravity seems to be out to get him, specifically. Every time he blinks, he feels himself waver — but Jaebum is there, keeping a firm grip on his waist and holding him upright.

“This is starting to feel like a pattern,” Jaebum mumbles as they reach the top of the stairs. He’s strong enough that he can hold up most of Jinyoung’s weight with one arm as he uses his free hand to try different doors. “Come on, let’s just get you — oh, christ.”

He’s opened the door of a bedroom, but it’s already occupied and Jinyoung sees a flash of a pitifully small dick. He pities the person on the receiving end of it.

Jaebum claps one of his hands over Jinyoung’s eyes. “Don’t look,” he hisses as he fumbles the door shut again.

“There’s not much to look at anyway,” Jinyoung says truthfully. “Not like you.”

Jaebum groans. “Is there a bedroom in this place without people fucking in it?”

“Hopefully not for long,” Jinyoung mumbles, but Jaebum either doesn’t hear him or chooses to ignore him.

Thankfully, the next door leads to an empty bedroom, both because Jinyoung is growing impatient and because standing, even with Jaebum’s help, is becoming a herculean task.

“Here, you can just — do you need to go to the bathroom or anything before you lie down? Shit, I should’ve gotten you some water, I’ll just go — ” Jaebum tries to step out of the bedroom, but Jinyoung latches onto his arm and manages to kick the door shut on his third try.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jinyoung murmurs, leaning against him so heavily that they stumble into the bedframe and fall onto the mattress. There’s a distant throbbing in Jinyoung’s foot that signify he might’ve stubbed his toe at some point, but he doesn’t mind so much when he’s sprawled on top of Jaebum on a bed. Finally.

Jaebum’s hands fall awkwardly to Jinyoung’s hips like he doesn’t know what else to do with them. He gives Jinyoung an awkward pat. “Do you wanna lie down now?”

“I am lying down,” Jinyoung points out. He leans down until they’re close enough that Jaebum’s eyes cross when he tries to look at him. “Besides, isn’t this nice?”

“You’re kind of suffocating me, actually,” Jaebum wheezes.

“More comments about my weight,” Jinyoung pouts. “Even when we’re in _bed_ together — ”

“It’s — ” Jaebum splutters. “You shouldn’t say it like that.”

“But we _are._ Jinyoung nudges one of his thighs between Jaebum’s. A thrill of triumph rushes through him when he feels that Jaebum is half-hard.

“I — ” Jaebum’s hips jerk up into Jinyoung’s at the pressure, just the tiniest bit, but enough for Jinyoung to gasp. “Oh, you shouldn’t — make noises like that — ”

“Why not?” Jinyoung whines.

“It’s just too — ” The sentence trails off into a groan, his hands slipping up to Jinyoung’s front. They aren’t pushing away; if anything, they feel like a caress, like a tease. “People might hear you.”

“Maybe I want them to,” Jinyoung counters.

Jaebum lets out a huff of nervous laughter. “People might think something’s going on.”

“Maybe,” Jinyoung repeats slowly, his face dipping closer to Jaebum’s until their noses brush and he can feel the warmth of his breath on his lips, “I want them to.”

Jaebum’s hands slide up further, as if he’s about to wrap them around Jinyoung’s neck or cup his face or — or _something,_ something good, something that Jinyoung’s been aching for —

Electricity jolts through Jinyoung’s body as Jaebum’s thumbs brush past his nipples and a strangled whine gets caught in his throat.

They both freeze, eyes locked on each other, Jaebum’s hands still pressed against Jinyoung’s chest. The arousal that shot through Jinyoung at Jaebum’s touch is just as dizzying as the alcohol in his system, and his cock is pressed against the inseam of his jeans, achingly hard, and Jaebum —

Oh.

Jaebum’s cock is pressed against Jinyoung’s hip, just as hard as he is.

Jinyoung licks his lips, eyes flicking down to Jaebum’s mouth and then back up again. They haven’t even kissed, he realizes. All Jaebum has given him is an accidental touch to his nipples through his shirt and Jinyoung feels ready to fall over from the intensity.

Then again, maybe that’s just what it feels like to have Jaebum’s full focus, the heat of his hands and the sturdiness of his body a little intoxicating. Even this close, his eyes are dark enough they almost look black. They feel like they’re burning through Jinyoung as he stares at him and then slowly, deliberately drags his thumbs across his nipples again.

A keen rises in Jinyoung’s chest, thin and needy. Through the haze of pleasure and alcohol, he’s distantly aware that Jaebum’s cock twitches between them at the sound. It feels painfully hard, and Jinyoung can’t stop himself from thinking about exactly what it looked like in the pictures Jaebum had sent him and just how _badly_ he’s wanted it in his mouth since —

Without thinking, he finds himself clambering off the bed and hitting the floor on his knees harder than he’d intended, but it doesn’t hurt. Nothing hurts, not with how drunk he feels off of finally being so close to his goal —

“Jinyoung — ” Jaebum’s sitting up on the edge of his mattress, muscular thighs spread wide and stretching the rips in his jeans until the fabric is straining. Jinyoung wants to work his fingers beneath it and feel Jaebum’s muscles flexing, wants to have Jaebum’s bare skin on his, smooth and warm.

It’s all so overwhelming that Jaebum doesn’t quite know where to start. His mind is fuzzy and trying to run in a million different directions, and he’s left with his mouth slightly agape and his eyes glazed.

Wobbly even on his knees, he looks up at Jaebum. It’s a beautiful view — except the edges of it are starting to go black and his eyes are getting harder to open with each blink.

He hears Jaebum say his name — sees his lips move — is vaguely aware of a hand cupping his head —

Jaebum is so pretty, he thinks hazily. And his thighs make such nice pillows.

He should tell him that. After he just...lies here and rests his eyes for a few seconds.

Yeah. He’ll do that. He will.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 **Jinyoung**  
death  
i feel like death  
i long for death  
fucking  
kill me hyung

 **Jaebum**  
Hahaha  
I guess you’re hungover  
It’s not that surprising considering

 **Jinyoung**  
fuck  
was i embarrassing?

 **Jaebum**  
Park Jinyoung? Embarrassing?  
Never

 **Jinyoung**  
my head hurts too muc h for you to treat me like this hyung  
be nice  
seriously though did i do anything?  
i remember like  
ill-advised shots  
dancing?

 **Jaebum**  
You didn’t do anything but have a good time  
Don’t worry haha  
You’re kind of cute really

 **Jinyoung**  
really? :(

 **Jaebum**  
Yeah  
When you’re not too far gone

 **Jinyoung**  
what’s that supposed to mean

 **Jaebum**  
It doesn’t mean anything  
Haha

 **Jinyoung**  
hyung  
:(

 **Jaebum**  
Drink lots of water for me, okay?  
Jinyoung?

 

 

* * *

 

 

“You look ugly as shit,” Bambam says cheerfully as he flicks on the lights. Jinyoung pulls the blankets over his head and vows to himself that he’ll actually go through with his plans for murder once he can move without his stomach trying to heave itself up his throat.

“Yeah, at least I look like this only when I’m fucked up and not all the time like you,” Jinyoung grumbles. He burrows into his pillow and moans quietly in pain. “God, how did I even get home last night?”

“Your knight in shining armor,” Bambam replies. “Are you actually into muscular guys or do you just pick out the ones that can carry your unconscious body home?”

“Unconscious?” Jinyoung winces. He knows he blacked out, obviously, but actually passing out is a step further than even that. God, he’s lucky Jaebum was willing to message him at all this morning.

Humiliation roils in his gut, adding even more to his already-present nausea. He’s used to being a little bit of an overexcitable drunk, and he’s had a handful of hookups that he only had the barest recollection of the next morning, but —

The idea of Jaebum seeing him like that makes him want to never leave his blanket nest. Even more than the hangover already did, anyway.

“Hyung?” A weight settles on the bed and the corner of the blanket lifts just enough that he can see Bambam’s wide eyes. “Did something happen?”

Jinyoung sighs. “I don’t think so. I mean, I think Jaebum would’ve said something if we actually fucked — ”

Bambam snorts. “You’re lucky you’re hungover or I’d hit you for being a fool.”

“Coward,” Jinyoung mutters, but Bambam doesn’t pay him any mind — thankfully, because Jinyoung thinks any physical contact might make him hurl right onto his bedsheets.

“Did something _other than sex_ happen?” Bambam asks.

“I don’t _know,_ ” Jinyoung whines. “Why would anything other than sex happen, anyway? You know who I am, you know what I want — ”

“Who the hell knows what you want anymore?” Bambam asks sharply before sighing. “Have you talked to him?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung replies sullenly. “And he...said some things, I guess.”

“Some things?”

“I don’t _know,_ Bam,” Jinyoung replies testily. “I’m too — I can’t deal with this right now, leave me alone.”

Bambam scoffs, but he does as Jinyoung asks and stands from the bed. There’s the gentle _thunk_ of something being placed on the nightstand by his bed — water, probably. Guilt washes over Jinyoung at yet another person taking care of him, and he curls in on himself miserably.

“Hyung?” Bambam says quietly. “You know you’re gonna have to deal with everything eventually, right?”

He doesn’t wait for an answer before walking out of the room, leaving Jinyoung alone again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> re: the update schedule - "life sucks don't grow up kids" -cherry
> 
> in all seriousness, mia was really wiped out on chaptered fic after finishing up bloom and has been busy running a fic fest among other things, plus cherry's schedule has been packed beyond belief. it's been hard to line up our schedules while also finding energy and inspiration to write, but we really appreciate everyone who sticks with us and this story!! we still love it and hope you're having as good a time with it as we are ♡


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Anyway,” Jackson continues, “my point is that Jinyoung’s bussy is like a revolving door. And you’re running through it like Buddy the Elf instead of hopping in and getting out like you’re supposed to.”
> 
> “I’m not trying to be in the revolving door at all,” Jaebum insists.
> 
> “And yet there you are,” Jackson says. “Like a hamster on a wheel. With blue balls.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to [mel](http://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee) for looking this chapter over for us!! you're an angel, thank you for putting up with our constant nonsense ♡
> 
> [:~)](http://pbs.twimg.com/media/DxAD-bUXgAE5-wW.jpg)   
> 

Considering how forward Jinyoung can be, it seems like it’s always Jaebum who ends up waiting for a response.

At least he didn’t send a dick pic this time, he thinks morosely as he checks his messages with Jinyoung yet again. He’s still been left on unread, nothing changed since he sent it a few days ago.

“Hey.” A hand waves in front of his face and Jaebum blinks, focusing on Jackson. “What’s up with you?”

Jaebum pushes Jackson’s hand away roughly, kicking at him and making him retreat to the other side of the couch with a yelp. “Nothing’s up with me.”

“You’re actually checking your messages,” Jackson points out. “Clearly, something’s up.” Jaebum’s grumbling is cut off by Jackson asking, “Does it have anything to do with you going to that party with Jinyoung a few nights ago?”

Jaebum freezes. “How did you — ?”

“Come on, hyung.” Jackson grins. “You really think there’s a single frat in our school that I don’t have connections in?”

Jaebum scowls at him. “Why did I decide to be best friends with an extrovert, again?”

“Because you _love_ me,” Jackson croons.

Jaebum kicks at him again, but he’s out of reach this time. It doesn’t stop him from howling like Jaebum’s made an attempt on his life, though.

“Murder isn’t a good diversion tactic,” Jackson accuses, holding up a strawberry-shaped pillow that Jaebum’s mother had gifted him like it’s a shield. “Stop avoiding the question.”

“What question?”

“The Jinyoung question!” Jackson smacks his leg with the pillow. “I heard you two disappeared upstairs.”

Jaebum groans. “Well, did your _inside source_ also tell you that I had to drag his unconscious ass home?”

Jackson waves his hand. “Nah, he was too busy getting inside someone, himself.”

“Great.” Jaebum snorts. “I’m glad someone’s night went well, at least.”

“So that means yours didn’t go well?” Jackson prods. “What happened? Did he leave you high and dry? Who am I kidding, Park Jinyoung doesn’t do anything dry — ”

“He passed out on me,” Jaebum interrupts, cheeks flushing. He’s gotten fairly used to hearing innuendo from Jinyoung’s mouth, but hearing other people talk that way about him makes Jaebum feel strange and off-kilter.

Jackson’s eyes widen. “On your _dick?_ ”

“I — ” Jaebum splutters. “What the _fuck,_ Jackson?”

“I know you’re huge,” Jackson muses. “But I didn’t think it’d be enough to make someone actually pass out. Well, maybe a weakling, but not Jinyoung.”

“He didn’t pass out on my dick,” Jaebum hisses. And it’s...true. Mostly. No dicks were out, technically — but Jinyoung had absolutely been ready for it, and so had Jaebum. It’s unsettling, how close he’d gotten to letting go, and it’s even more unsettling that there’s some tiny part of his brain that almost regrets it didn’t happen.

“Wait, does that mean — ” Jackson gapes at him. “Did you get Jinyoung to _top?_ ”

“No!” Jaebum’s voice cracks. He’s never thought about that before — Jinyoung is very clear about what he wants, after all — but just the implication is enough to blindside him. “There was — no one was on anyone’s dick. No dicks were out. Just — no dicks. Period.”

“Not even a little grind?” Jackson presses. “A little nip twist?”

Denial rises automatically to the tip of Jaebum’s tongue, but dies there when he realizes — Jackson isn’t wrong.

It must show on his face because Jackson claps gleefully. “I knew it! So were you just dry humping or something and he fell over? Or was it — ”

“It was just dancing,” Jaebum interrupts. He’s not lying. At least, that’s what he tells himself. “Just dancing and then — and then he wanted to lie down for a bit, but we got kind of, um, tangled up. And then he passed out. That’s it.”

“That’s it?” Jackson echoes. “But why?”

“Because we were both drunk,” Jaebum says exasperatedly. “He was wasted and I — ”

“Okay, that’s totally fair,” Jackson cuts in. “But I mean, you two have been dancing around this, even when you’re stone cold sober. Jinyoung isn’t the type to dance around things, hyung.”

“Actually, he’s a pretty decent dancer,” Jaebum mumbles.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Jackson says. “He’s pretty straightforward in getting what he wants.”

Jaebum snorts. “I’ve noticed.”

“And he wants you,” Jackson adds. “Pretty obviously, too.”

“He wants my dick,” Jaebum clarifies.

“And?”

“And that’s — nothing new, Jackson,” Jaebum snaps. “It’s not actually that hard to find people who want to hook up.”

“But you _don’t_ hook up with people,” Jackson replies. “Jinyoung should be easy. Like, bussy for dummies.”

“I’m — ” Jaebum blinks. “Bussy?”

“You know,” Jackson says with raised eyebrows.

“I really don’t.”

Jackson sighs. “Boy pussy,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Except the last time I said that, you told me to never say it again. So, we compromise with bussy.”

“Wow,” Jaebum says faintly. “That’s...actually worse.”

“Anyway,” Jackson continues, “my point is that Jinyoung’s bussy is like a revolving door. And you’re running through it like Buddy the Elf instead of hopping in and getting out like you’re supposed to.”

“I’m not trying to be in the revolving door at all,” Jaebum insists.

“And yet there you are,” Jackson says. “Like a hamster on a wheel. With blue balls.”

“My balls are fine,” Jaebum replies.

“Are they, though?” Jackson asks. “Are they really?”

“ _Yes._ ” Jaebum huffs. “I’m not trying to get bu — get laid, Jackson.”

“Then why do you keep hanging out with Jinyoung?”

“Because he — ” Jaebum flounders, trying to find a response that doesn’t make himself sound like as massive of a sentimental idiot as he feels. “I don’t know, he’s kind of fun.”

“Fun...to sleep with,” Jackson says. “What else does he even do?”

“He’s fun to dance with,” Jaebum says. He sees Jackson open his mouth and adds hastily, “And not in just the sexy way, I mean — I don’t know, we were just...having fun and holding hands and...things.” His voice trails off. “It was nice.”

“And then he dry humped you and passed out on you.”

“Okay, he was stupid drunk at that point,” Jaebum protests. “We all do dumb things when we’re wasted.”

“Except that’s just typical Jinyoung behavior,” Jackson counters. “The holding hands and dancing for fun? _That’s_ what would make me think he wasn’t himself.”

“You’re wrong,” Jaebum says automatically.

“And you’re in denial,” Jackson replies. “Why are you so dead set on believing Jinyoung wants you for more than your dick?”

“I’m not!” Jaebum says hotly. “I just don’t want to fuck him if that _is_ all he wants, okay?”

“And why not?”

“Because I’ve had enough of that,” Jaebum bursts out. “Because I — I’m tired of getting attached to people who just want a good lay. And I’m not saying I’m attached, because it’s not — we’re not like that. But I feel like — it’s not a hookup I’m looking for. And as long as it’s what he’s looking for, then I’m not fucking with it.”

Jackson is remarkably silent, eyes wide and mouth shut tight as Jaebum speaks. It’s only when Jaebum lets out a frustrated sigh that Jackson ventures, “Are you sure you aren’t already attached?”

“Not...like that,” Jaebum says slowly. “It’s not anything, really. Like I said, he’s fun to dance with and he makes me laugh and — he could be a cool friend, you know?”

“A cool friend,” Jackson repeats dubiously. “Yeah, you sound very...unattached. For sure.”

“Seriously,” Jaebum insists. “We can hang out and be friends. It’s chill. It’s not like he’s gonna break my heart with dick jokes.”

Jackson cocks his head thoughtfully. “You sound like a lactose intolerant person giving themselves an excuse to eat ice cream.”

Jaebum barks out a laugh. “It’s not like I’m hurting myself just by hanging out with someone. I told you, we’re not like that.”

“Right.” Jackson eyes him warily. “I was on board with this whole Jinyoung thing when I thought you just needed to get your dick wet, but...I don’t know. If that’s not what you’re looking for, then I don’t know if Jinyoung is your guy.”

“He has friends,” Jaebum says stubbornly. “And we can be just that. It’s not that complicated.”

“Sure,” Jackson replies. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I will,” Jaebum says firmly.

Now, if only he could be as firm with himself.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Later, even once Jackson is gone, his words still stick with Jaebum. Jackson can be trying to deal with pretty often as it is, but this subject in particular has made the conversation slip under Jaebum’s skin even worse than usual.

“‘You’re in _denial,_ ’” Jaebum mutters to himself as he lies on his bed, glaring at the ceiling. “‘You keep _telling yourself that._ ’ Fuck off.”

It isn’t complicated, he thinks. Sure, there have been times when Jaebum’s been tempted to give in, and things got a little dicey when they were both drunk — but it’s fine. They’re fine. Even if Jinyoung still hasn’t messaged him back. As a matter of fact, Jaebum can totally double text. Because he isn’t attached, and it won’t mean anything. Obviously.

It’s fine.

 

**Jaebum**  
Hey  
Are we good?  
I mean are you okay  
You didn’t die from a hangover right haha

**Jinyoung**  
no  
not from a hangover  
:(

**Jaebum**  
Oh?

**Jinyoung**  
the plague  
it’s come for me

 

Before Jaebum can reply, his phone is buzzing insistently with an incoming call. When he answers it, he hears a miserable sniffle and a tiny, whining “ _hyung._ ”

It’s just relief that makes the knot in his chest unravel, Jaebum tells himself. Of course, he was worried. The last time he saw Jinyoung, he was passed out drunk. It’s only natural to be glad to hear his voice and know that he’s okay.

“Hey, there,” Jaebum says. “You sound a little worse for wear.”

“I’m _dying._ ” As much as Jinyoung’s voice sounds scratchy and weak, there’s that definitive cuteness to it that’s becoming familiar to Jaebum. “I thought the hangover was just super bad and stretching out into the second day, but my body _hates_ me.”

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” Jaebum presses. “Are you drinking water? Eating enough?”

“Don’t talk about food,” Jinyoung groans. “I don’t even want to think about it.”

“You have to eat,” Jaebum chides him. “Do you need me to bring you food?”

“Oh my god, no,” Jinyoung says, suddenly sounding frantic, or at least as frantic as possible while he’s as stuffy as he is. “You can’t see me like this.”

Jaebum snorts. “Jinyoung-ah, I’ve already seen you drunk off your ass. I promise a little sickness isn’t going to change my opinion of you.”

“You — ” Jinyoung stops short.

“Hello?” Jaebum pulls the phone back to check if the call was dropped. “Are you still there?”

“I — yeah,” Jinyoung’s voice sounds extra muffled, as if his face is half-smushed into a pillow or his arms. “You — never mind. It’s just — it’s different when I’m all gross like this.”

“Really, it’s not a big deal.” He runs his fingers over the stubble growing on his upper lip. “Actually, I’m pretty gross right now, too. We can just hang out and be gross together.”

“You’re never gross,” Jinyoung grumbles. “I wish you would be, sometimes. It’d make my life easier.”

“I’m super gross right now, I promise,” Jaebum replies. “I can come and prove it to you.”

“ _Stop,_ ” Jinyoung whines, but his voice peters off into a scratchy giggle. “Besides, the kids can take care of me just fine.”

“The kids?” Jaebum asks. “Your not-roommates?”

“Yeah, them.” Despite the way he talks about them, there’s a fondness in Jinyoung’s voice that makes Jaebum smile. “Bam just came home right now, actually — ”

In the background, Jaebum can hear a voice screech _Gyeom, look at these pants!_ followed by a distinctive tearing noise and a gleeful shout of _and they’re tearaway!_ Screaming ensues, clearly a reasonable distance from Jinyoung, but enough for Jaebum to hold his phone away from his ear with a wince.

Once the screaming has finally died down, there’s a moment of silence down the line before Jinyoung murmurs, “Actually, if you wanted to come over, that might be okay.”

“I’m on my way.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jaebum isn’t sure what he’s expecting when he arrives at Jinyoung’s apartment. It isn’t for Bambam to answer the door in hotpants to reveal Yugyeom furiously spraying a magical girl pillow with Lysol, a pair of crumpled tearaway pants still abandoned on the floor, and a particularly vindictive looking Jinyoung curled up on the couch.

“Well,” Jaebum says slowly. “This looks...interesting.”

“Are you here to take care of him?” Bambam asks, jerking his head in the direction of the couch.

“If he’ll let me.”

Bambam snorts. “I’m sure he’d let you do anything you pleased. Come on in.”

When Yugyeom sees him, he wails, “Jinyoung _coughed_ on her! She’s been tainted!”

“Oh, shut up,” Jinyoung grumbles from the couch, his voice a painful-sounding rasp. “She’s already seen your dick, I’m sure she’s tainted enough.”

Yugyeom brandishes the Lysol at Jinyoung threateningly. “How _dare_ you make these kinds of accusations against me. I’ve told you a million times, Sailor Jupiter isn’t jerk-off material! Plus, do you know how much this thing cost?”

“You gotta respect her lesbian identity,” Bambam adds.

Jinyoung scoffs. “What do you two know about respect?”

“Okay,” Jaebum intervenes. “I think maybe we should separate you guys. For, uh, health reasons.” Or for the sake of Jaebum’s sanity. That’s kind of a health reason, at least. “How about you two go hang out in your room? I’ll take care of Jinyoung out here.”

Yugyeom groans. “But I don’t wanna have to clean lube stains out of the couch cushions, and Jinyoung _never_ washes them out himself.”

Jaebum splutters. “That’s — he’s _sick,_ there won’t be any lube on the couch. Or anywhere. Just — go to your room.”

“You’re not our real dad,” Bambam sulks, but the pair shuffles out of the room surprisingly obediently. Jaebum wouldn’t be surprised if Jinyoung’s been terrorizing them more than usual if he’s feeling under the weather — they’re probably grateful someone’s giving them a reprieve.

Jinyoung warily eyes the plastic bag Jaebum’s brought with him. “What’s that?”

“Stuff to help you feel better,” Jaebum replies, sitting on the edge of the couch cushion by Jinyoung’s hip. He roots around in the bag and pulls out a juice box, which he hands over. “Have you been drinking enough fluids?”

“No,” Jinyoung says, taking the juice box. “Are you here to give me some fluids?” He tries to give Jaebum a seductive pout, but the effect is ruined when he’s wracked with a coughing fit that leaves him in a miserable heap on the couch.

“Ah,” Jaebum says fondly. “You look like Nora when she has a hairball.”

“Why are you always so _mean_ to me?” Jinyoung whines. “First when I’m hungover, then when I’m sick. Do you even like me?”

Jaebum coughs awkwardly, looking into the bag again to avoid Jinyoung’s wide eyes. “I’m not being mean. I compared you to Nora and she’s my favorite person in the world.”

“Your favorite person in the world coughs up hairballs?”

“Yes,” Jaebum says firmly. “She’s very good at it.”

“You and cats.” Jinyoung shakes his head and smiles. “Do you really have five?”

“You remember that?” Jaebum chuckles. “Yeah, I have five, but four of them still live with my parents. Nora’s the only one I brought to my apartment since the fee for having them is kind of ridiculous.” He hesitates before offering, “You should come and see her sometime.”

“That sounds...fun.” Jinyoung stares down at the juice box in his hand and stabs the straw into it more aggressively than he probably needs to. “What else have you got in that bag?”

“A lot of juice,” Jaebum says. “And some chicken stock.”

Jinyoung squints at him. “Chicken stock?”

“Yeah.” Jaebum pauses. “Please tell me you have rice and like, at least one pot.”

Jinyoung hesitates. “I think so?”

Jaebum takes a deep breath. “Do I even want to see your kitchen?”

“It’s not that bad.” Jinyoung pouts. “It can’t get bad when you don’t cook anything but ramen. Plus, Bam keeps it clean enough.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Jaebum stands from the couch, taking the plastic bag with him.

The kitchen isn’t nearly as bad as Jaebum had feared. There’s only one pot big enough to work with, the rice is an especially cheap brand that Jaebum usually avoids, and the water pressure in the kitchen sink is mediocre at best — but it’s not impossible to deal with. Jaebum can make it work.

He’s finishing up washing the rice, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, when he hears a rustling noise. He turns to see Jinyoung hovering in the entryway to the kitchen, heavy blanket wrapped snugly around him so nothing but his face and the toes of his socks are visible.

Jaebum tilts his head. “You wanna watch?”

Jinyoung nods and scurries over to his side, hooking his chin over Jaebum’s shoulder. He’s pressed close, warm against him even through the blankets. Jaebum doesn’t know if Jinyoung still has ulterior motives for being so close — but it’s nice, anyway. He can let himself believe that, instead of Jinyoung rubbing himself against him like a cat in heat, he really does just want to watch. Hell, maybe he even just likes being near Jaebum like this, maybe it makes warmth blossom in Jinyoung’s chest the same way it does for him —

Jaebum jerkily shuts off the faucet. “I need to move to the stove,” he tells Jinyoung.

“Okay,” Jinyoung says agreeably. He doesn’t move his chin from Jaebum’s shoulder. “Are you gonna move?”

“I — ” Jaebum gulps. “Yeah.”

They shuffle their way over to the stove together, Jinyoung bumping against Jaebum lightly when he stops in front of it.

“I can’t believe you actually cook,” Jinyoung mumbles as Jaebum pours the stock and rice into the pot and turns on the stove.

Jaebum snorts. “This is barely cooking. How can a college student not know how to make congee?”

“All I need is ramen,” Jinyoung says stubbornly.

“It’s no wonder you ended up getting sick,” Jaebum comments. “Your body must constantly be on the verge of breaking down if all you give it is ramen.”

“Maybe you should give me something else, then,” Jinyoung suggests.

“I mean — I am?” Jaebum looks pointedly down at the pot. “I can make something else for you later, though. Once you can actually taste things.”

There’s a beat of silence and then Jinyoung says quietly, “That sounds nice.”

“Maybe I could make some for you when you come to meet Nora,” Jaebum says. He doesn’t know why he’s saying it — he’s pretty sure he didn’t give his mouth permission to form the words — but it happens before he can do anything to stop it. He snaps his mouth shut and stares down at the pot, willing it to boil faster.

“You really want me to come over, huh?” Jinyoung teases.

“Well, I mean — ” Jaebum stutters. “Since you can’t feed yourself, someone’s got to, right?”

“I guess it depends,” Jinyoung says, drawing the words out. “What do you want to feed me, hyung?”

On the last word, he turns his face so his lips brush against Jaebum’s neck, velvety soft on his sensitive skin. Jaebum’s breath hitches in his chest.

“Um, well, my mom taught me her kimchi jjigae recipe,” he blurts. “She taught me most of the things I know about cooking, really. Basic stuff, you know, fried rice and stir fry and — uh, there’s lots of frying and rice in general, actually, that’s mostly what I know — ”

He can practically hear the pout in Jinyoung’s voice when he says, “Hyung, that’s not what I meant.”

Jaebum clears his throat. “Well, I don’t really know western dishes. I can do, like, Kraft mac and cheese? Or frozen dinners. Lean Cuisine will never let you down.”

“I — ” Jinyoung seems at a loss for words. “How is that better than ramen?”

“It just is,” Jaebum says firmly. He turns around to face Jinyoung. “Do you have a big spoon? That’s clean?”

Jinyoung bats his eyelashes at him. “You can be the big spoon.”

Jaebum blinks. “I can’t go in boiling water. I’ll die.”

“Boiling water?”

“I need a spoon to stir the food,” Jaebum clarifies. “Or it’s gonna stick to the pot and burn. And I get the feeling you aren’t really into heavy-duty cleaning.” Or any cleaning, Jaebum doesn’t say.

Jinyoung frowns at him for a few more seconds before shuffling away. The blanket drags on the ground behind him, and it should be driving him crazy — Jinyoung’s going to wear it out to the point of holes, it’s going to get dirty, it’s probably kicking up dust bunnies in its wake — but instead it’s...stupidly endearing. He can feel a stupid smile spreading across his face as he watches Jinyoung traipse around the kitchen in a blanket cape, pouting all the while as he opens and closes drawers in pursuit of a clean spoon.

When he finally finds one, he walks over to Jaebum and hands it over triumphantly, like he’s returning from a quest as opposed to having found a spoon in his own kitchen. Jaebum takes in the hand peeking out of the blankets and the self-satisfied look on Jinyoung’s face and can’t stop himself from laughing.

“What?” Jinyoung demands. “Why are you laughing?”

“You’re just — ” Jaebum reaches out and brushes his fingers beneath Jinyoung’s chin the same way he does with Nora. “You’re more stubbly than I thought you’d get, considering your baby face.”

Jinyoung scowls. “It’s not my fault,” he whines, drawing the blanket up over the lower half of his face to cover the shadow around his mouth and jaw. “It grows so fast.”

“No, no,” Jaebum reassures him. “It’s...cute.”

“Stubble isn’t cute,” Jinyoung grumbles. “Stubble is for tops.”

That startles a snort out of Jaebum. “You have some pretty weird ideas about things, you know that?”

“Like what?”

Like never speaking to your hookups again, Jaebum thinks, but he holds himself back. He shrugs. “Just things.” He takes the spoon from Jinyoung’s hand and turns back to the pot and its now boiling contents. “I’m gonna finish getting this set up. Why don’t you go ahead and lie back down on the couch? You should be resting.”

Jaebum busies himself with the congee, settling a lid over it, and turning down the heat. This is familiar and easy to him — nothing like especially horny boys who somehow know all his weak spots.

When he’s done, he turns to head back into the sitting room — but Jinyoung is standing obstinately in the entryway still, pouting at him.

Jaebum sighs. “I thought I told you to go lie down?”

“I was waiting for you,” Jinyoung replies.

It’s stupid, the flush that Jaebum can feel in his cheeks at that. There’s no reason for it, not when Jinyoung is probably just being stubborn. “You can’t sleep on your own?”

Jinyoung shrugs. “Not when you could be sleeping with me.”

“I — ” Jaebum fumbles for a reply. “I’m not the sick one. I don’t need the sleep.”

Jinyoung pushes his lower lip out even further. He should look stupid, but something in Jaebum’s chest squeezes tight at the sight. “Please, hyung?”

He knows what Jinyoung is doing. He’s perfectly aware that this is no different from all the flirting he’s done in the past, from grinding on him at the party or pretending to be drunk or any of the other over the top things Jinyoung’s attempted — and yet, he finds himself herding Jinyoung toward the sitting room anyway, helpless to resist his pout (and maybe, possibly the temptation of feeling the warmth of his body against him again).

Any doubts in his mind are quelled once he’s lying on his back and Jinyoung is wriggling between his legs to settle on top of him, his head resting against Jaebum’s chest. It’s as close as they were at the party, but distinctly different. Jaebum’s head is buzzing with something other than alcohol and he isn’t turned on by the feeling of Jinyoung on top of him, but it’s somehow more overwhelming.

This time, Jaebum can distinctly hear the quiet huff of Jinyoung’s breathing and feel every point of contact between them — and it makes his head spin more than when he’d thumbed at Jinyoung nipples and heard him keen.

Jaebum takes a deep breath. He hopes Jinyoung can’t feel the way his heart is pounding in his chest.

He chances a glance down at Jinyoung’s face, surprised he hasn’t said anything or made an attempt to go for Jaebum’s belt — and then he snorts once he sees that Jinyoung’s eyes are shut, clearly passed out again.

He laughs to himself, taking in Jinyoung’s sleeping face. He’s so relaxed like this, his full lips parted and his lashes fanning out over his cheeks. Even the heavy shadow of stubble can’t take away from how soft he looks, almost like a baby with his round, pink cheeks.

“Why does this keep happening to you, hm?” he murmurs. “Am I that boring?”

Jinyoung simply snuffles in his sleep and Jaebum feels his heart stutter.

_Are you sure you aren’t already attached?_ Jackson had asked. Jaebum had been so sure — or, at least, he’d been vehement in his denial. It was easier to believe when his arms weren’t wrapped around Jinyoung, when he couldn’t smell the faint scent of shampoo from the hair tickling his chin.

Now, though. Now, Jaebum can’t run from the fact that all Jinyoung has to do is pout and call him hyung to get his way — not when he’s pinned beneath Jinyoung’s weight and holding him tight like he wants him even closer.

He lets his head fall back against the armrest and stares unseeingly at the ceiling.

“Fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jaeb's feelings brought to you by u got it bad by usher -cherry
> 
> also please don't worry, he doesn't forget about the congee


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being naked never made anything better,” Jaebum replies, taking a seat on the couch next to Jinyoung and staring intently at the contents of the bowl instead of looking up.
> 
> Jinyoung leans down so he can look up into Jaebum’s face. “Are you sure about that?”
> 
> “Yes,” Jaebum insists. “I’ve never been naked in my life.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks so much to [mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee) for looking this over for us!!
> 
> [b e e t s](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cjk9MRpMvMU)   
> 

Jinyoung is warm.

He’s not really awake enough to register much else. All he knows is that he’s dozing and can feel the downy warmth of the blanket at his back and something firm against his front.

He frowns slightly. Their couch is garbage, but he thought it was at least softer than this.

But still, he feels surprisingly comfortable, cocooned in warmth with a soft voice above his head humming something that sounds sweet and smooth. He shifts, trying to burrow deeper into whatever lovely warm thing he’s lying on — but then it rumbles at the same time as the singing stops, and Jinyoung hazily registers that he’s being laughed at.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.”

The pieces start falling together — the pretty voice, the breadth of the chest his head is resting on, the faint woodsy scent of cologne. As he wakes up more, he realizes he can feel Jaebum’s arms draped loosely around him, hands resting casually on his back. Jinyoung can’t remember the last time he had this much contact with someone, at least not without having their dick in at least one of his holes beforehand.

And here he is without even a kiss from Jaebum, using his chest as a pillow and tucked right into the space between his thighs like it was made for him. Completely non-sexually. He’s getting so used to this being the state of affairs that some traitorous little part of his brain is almost happy with it.

His life is a joke, and everyone is laughing except him.

There still might be some hope, though, if the feeling of something rigid pressing against his thigh is anything to go by. He angles his hips down, pushing into Jaebum slightly, and asks in his best sultry whisper, “Is there something in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?”

He knows his voice is one of his greatest assets, especially when he’s just woken up. It’s gotten him plenty of rounds of morning sex in the past and he knows how to use it to his advantage.

But Jaebum simply pouts and mumbles, “Yeah, my phone is like, digging into my hip?”

Jinyoung lifts his head to stare at him.

Jaebum winces. “It really hurts, actually.”

Reluctantly, Jinyoung shifts his hips away and drops his face back to Jaebum’s chest, only to shoot back up again with a disgruntled noise. He glares down at the wet spot on Jaebum’s chest he just put his cheek in. “What is that?”

Jaebum huffs out a laugh. “You drool in your sleep, you know that?”

Jinyoung gives him an affronted glare. “I do not.” Still, he wipes at his mouth hastily, just in case. His hand comes away a little too damp for comfort, but he ignores it. He doesn’t _drool._

“You really do.” Jaebum cocks his head. “Would you mind getting up for a minute?”

Jinyoung stays stubbornly in place, lower lip pushing out into a pout. “You’re kicking me off my own couch just because you think I drooled on you?”

“You definitely drooled on me,” Jaebum corrects. “But I’m not punishing you. It was kind of cute.”

“How is drooling cute?” Jinyoung mutters. He drops his chin down to Jaebum’s chest, carefully avoiding the wet spot on his t-shirt. “Not that I’m saying I _do_ drool, anyway. Because I don’t.”

“Okay, fine. You don’t drool. Happy?” Jaebum’s words seem exasperated, but his tone is teasing and the corners of his mouth are curled up in a smile. “Now, please move, Jinyoung-ah, or the food’s going to burn.”

Jinyoung’s stomach jolts and he obediently sits up without a word. He wonders if Jaebum even realizes that he’s let the nickname slip, more than once now. He wonders why he’s noticed himself.

Jaebum swings his legs over the side of the couch, stands, and stretches until Jinyoung hears distinct popping sounds.

“God,” Jaebum groans. “I’m not used to having anything heavier than Nora on me.”

That startles Jinyoung out of his thoughts. “Do I need to join a gym?” he demands, curling his knees up to his chest defensively. “Is this what you want me to do? Is that what you’re going to _drive_ me to?”

Jaebum barks out a laugh as he starts walking toward the kitchen. “Only if you want to. Besides, it could be good for you. It might release some of that tension and make you less…tightly wound.”

“Maybe I like being tight,” Jinyoung calls after him. “And anyway, there are other ways to work up a sweat.”

He thinks Jaebum stumbles slightly over his own feet as he turns the corner into the kitchen, but he can’t quite tell. “There are plenty of ways,” Jaebum agrees. “You know, like...mini golf. A brisk walk. Monopoly, sometimes.”

Jinyoung hums in thought. “Like strip monopoly?”

“What?” Jaebum’s voice cracks and Jinyoung hears the pot lid clatter against the countertop. “No!”

“Strip Uno is also a viable option,” Jinyoung offers helpfully.

“Why would you — ” There’s a pause, and when Jaebum speaks again, he sounds slightly less flustered. “Regular Uno is sweaty enough, probably.”

“How are you playing Uno?”

“With Jackson.” He hears a sigh. “He likes to abuse the draw two cards, which is obviously a declaration of war.”

The image of Jaebum getting so heated over a card game startles a giggle out of Jinyoung. “Obviously.”

“I mean,” — a cupboard slams open and closed more forcefully than probably necessary — “who _does_ that? To a _friend?_ ”

“A coward,” Jinyoung supplies.

“A goddamn coward!” Shuffling footsteps approach from the kitchen and Jaebum walks back toward the couch, a steaming bowl in one hand and a spoon in the other.

“Maybe strip Uno is a safer bet,” Jinyoung points out.

“Being naked never made anything better,” Jaebum replies, taking a seat on the couch next to Jinyoung and staring intently at the contents of the bowl instead of looking up.

Jinyoung leans down so he can look up into Jaebum’s face. “Are you sure about that?”

“Yes,” Jaebum insists. “I’ve never been naked in my life.”

Jinyoung bursts into laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the statement, rocking back on the couch and letting out that loud, honking laugh that Yugyeom and Bambam always make fun of him for before he can stop himself. He claps his hands over his mouth once he realizes, but Jaebum finally looks up at him. His eyes are wide, but his mouth is stretching into a grin and then he’s laughing too, their knees bumping as they dissolve into giggles.

“You need to eat,” Jaebum says once they’ve calmed down. A smile lingers at the edges of his mouth as he holds the bowl out. “I know you can’t taste much right now, but you still need to have something.”

Jinyoung hums. “Only if you feed it to me.”

“I — ” Jaebum blinks. “You can’t feed yourself?”

“No,” Jinyoung says. “I can’t.” He wraps the blanket tighter around himself, completely cocooned by it. “I don’t have any hands, hyung.”

Jaebum raises his eyebrows and reaches for the edge of the blanket. “I’m pretty sure — ”

“No!” Jinyoung insists, flailing a little to wriggle out of reach before catching himself. In what world would he not want Jaebum tugging the blanket off of him, at the very least as a prelude to something else?

But before he can do something more appropriate — like maybe casting the blanket aside like a cape and asking Jaebum outright to ravish him — Jaebum is turning on the couch with his legs tucked up under him and scooting closer.

“C’mere, then,” Jaebum says through a laugh. He picks up a spoonful of the congee and then blows on it, eyes nearly crossed as he looks down at it. He looks a little silly, but Jinyoung can’t bring himself to laugh when he looks up with warmth in his eyes. “Open wide.”

“I’m good at that,” Jinyoung says automatically. The effect might be slightly dampened by the fact that the blanket is wrapped around his head like a shawl.

Still, he doesn’t think he deserves to get a heaping spoonful of porridge stuffed in his mouth — even if it does taste nice. He tries to get his revenge by wrapping his lips seductively around the spoon as Jaebum pulls it back. All he accomplishes is making a thick slurping noise that makes Jaebum snort with laughter.

Jaebum takes to babysitting naturally, it seems — carefully scooping congee from the bowl, blowing on it lightly, and then lifting it to Jinyoung’s mouth without spilling a drop.

“You look…” Jaebum’s eyes trace over his features and Jinyoung swears he can feel his gaze almost like a touch, down the curve of his cheek toward the plump pink of his lips. “Like a little Russian lady.”

Jinyoung sputters around his mouthful of congee. “Excuse me?”

“Please,” Jaebum says plaintively. “Get me some beets.”

“Is that...a vine reference?” Jinyoung narrows his eyes. “What have I told you about talking like a normal person?”

Jaebum looks down at the bowl and then back up at Jinyoung. “Cool beans?”

Despite himself, Jinyoung feels his face split into a grin. He bites his lip and admonishes, “Stop getting cute with me.”

Jaebum pauses in his movements and sets the spoon back in the bowl. “You think I’m cute?”

“I — ” An _of course_ rises to the tip of Jinyoung’s tongue, but he swallows it. “I guess?”

And yeah, Jinyoung’s been more focused on the things he’s _always_ focused on — his strength, his sexiness, his massive dick — but having this brought up directly pulls him up short. He can’t stop himself from thinking about the first time they interacted, before he even knew Jaebum’s real name. _He was kind of cute,_ he’d told Bambam, long before he knew anything else about Jaebum.

Jaebum clears his throat. “You’re pretty cute, too.” He chuckles, but it sounds stilted. “I mean, when you’re not passing out on me all the time.”

The joke falls flat between them. The air is a little too tense, a little too thick with a kind of potential that Jinyoung doesn’t recognize or know what to do with. He swallows hard and watches Jaebum’s adam’s apple bob as he does the same.

“Feed me,” Jinyoung says abruptly. He opens his mouth wide, letting his tongue loll out a bit. “ _Ahhh._ ”

A laugh trips out of Jaebum’s chest and he ducks his head. When he looks back up at Jinyoung, he’s grinning again. He lifts a fresh spoonful to Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jinyoung eagerly wraps his mouth around the spoon, careful not to slurp at it this time. Instead, he locks eyes with Jaebum as he pulls off carefully and then lets just a bit of the translucent white spill from his lips.

Jaebum’s eyes track the drip of the congee down his chin, his hand reaching out automatically for Jinyoung’s face. He swipes his thumb carefully across Jinyoung’s skin. “You know,” he comments, “at this point, I feel like you’re making the fat baby jokes for me.”

Jinyoung sinks back into his cocoon with a pout. “Get a new joke.”

“But it’s so true,” Jaebum insists with a grin, far too pleased with himself.

“Well,” Jinyoung blusters, drawing his blankets up around himself haughtily, “at least I don’t have — have _raccoon hands._ ”

“I’m — ” Jaebum blinks down at his hands. “What does that even _mean?_ ”

“It means they’re tiny,” Jinyoung says uncharitably. “Like a little dumpster thief’s.”

Jaebum snorts. “They’re not _that_ small.”

“They are,” Jinyoung insists and sticks his hand out of the blanket. “Come here, compare.”

Jaebum sets the spoon in the bowl with a long-suffering sigh and then holds up his free hand to Jinyoung’s, aligning their fingers. His skin is warm from holding the food and Jinyoung is struck with the absurd urge to curl his fingers down and link their hands together.

“See?” Jaebum says. “Our fingers are about the same length.”

“Yours look smaller on their own though,” Jinyoung pushes. “Because they’re chubby. And they looked smaller when you’re holding your — ”

They both freeze, looking at each other with wide eyes. Time seems to stop for a moment in which Jinyoung has several different crises — Why did he almost say that? Why didn’t he follow through? Where are the lines and where is _he_ in relation to them? — and then they both spring into motion again at the same time, snatching their hands back.

“Next to your spoon!” Jinyoung babbles. “You know, ha, that sure was a — a big spoon you were using to stir the food earlier, wow — ”

“I’m gonna go ahead and clean the bowl,” Jaebum says at the same time, his voice almost drowned out by Jinyoung’s panic. He leaps off the couch, nearly tripping over the rug in his haste to get to the kitchen.

Why the hell did he lose his nerve? Jinyoung thinks frantically. He’s said plenty of things to Jaebum that were outright lewd. Hell, he’s done almost everything except say the words “fuck me” to Jaebum. What’s different about this?

Without giving himself time to think anymore, Jinyoung gathers up his blanket and traipses into the kitchen after Jaebum. It’s not very different from just a bit earlier when he’d watched Jaebum cook, but there’s a tense line to Jaebum’s shoulders and arms as he scrubs at the bowl far harder than he needs to.

Jinyoung should be appreciating how his muscles flex under his shirt with the movements of his arm. Or something.

He tugs the blanket tighter around himself and takes a deep breath. “Did you mean to send that picture to me?”

The bowl slips out of Jaebum’s hands and clatters into the sink. “What — what picture?”

Jinyoung sighs. “Hyung.”

Jaebum shuts off the water and leans against the counter, his face still turned mostly away from Jinyoung. “You’re not gonna block me again?”

“I can’t block you from my house,” Jinyoung reasons. He hesitates before adding, “And I wouldn’t want to, anyway.”

Jaebum drums his fingers on the countertop, the moment dragging out and drawing tighter the longer they stand in silence. Finally, he takes a breath and says lowly, “I didn’t mean to send it to you.” Jinyoung’s heart plummets and he feels shame start to wind its way around his stomach, but then Jaebum continues, “But if you liked it, that’s — it’s fine.”

“Fine?” Jinyoung repeats, not ready to believe it. “It’s fine?”

“I mean — yeah?” Jaebum shrugs, finally turning to look in Jinyoung’s direction. “It’s...not anything you haven’t seen before, anyway.”

Jinyoung snorts, hiding his face in the blanket when Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “I — ” He pauses, unsure of how much he wants to give away. Jaebum’s already seen him ruffled and sick and passed out drunk, but it might still be too far to say — what? _I jerked off to that dick pic you accidentally sent me, thanks, it was great?_ Even in light of this new permission, Jinyoung feels ashamed when he thinks about it.

It’s better to steer the conversation out of deeper waters and into something a little more shallow.

Jinyoung clears his throat and lets the blanket drop so it’s draped around his shoulders. “Maybe I could see it again,” he says lightly. “You know, to refresh my memory.”

Jaebum’s eyebrows shoot up even higher and he walks slowly toward Jinyoung. He lifts his hand to Jinyoung’s face, pushing his bangs to the side, and then flicks his forehead with a resounding _thwack._

Jinyoung yelps, pulling his blanket back up around himself protectively. “You’re so mean, hyung!”

“I know I’ve said it before,” Jaebum says, and Jinyoung can hear the smile in his voice even as he cowers behind his downy shield. “But you are absolutely ridiculous, Jinyoung-ah.”

“It was an honest offer,” Jinyoung grumbles, daring to peek just his eyes and the tip of his nose out so he can pout at Jaebum.

“Trust me, I don’t doubt that.” Jaebum replies. “What would you do while you’re all sick and stuffed up anyway? Cough on it?”

Jinyoung shrugs. “If that’s what you’re into.”

Jaebum doesn’t give him any response other than flicking him again.

Jinyoung makes a show of whining and moaning and hiding in the blanket. Jaebum responds by tugging it down over his head until Jinyoung’s staggering around the kitchen blindly trying to escape, muffled complaints and accusations of murder bleeding through the blanket all the while.

Eventually, Jinyoung feels a tight hold around his waist and he’s suddenly being lifted off his feet and thrown over a strong shoulder. He flails weakly, not actually wanting Jaebum to let go.

“What happened to having a bad back?” Jinyoung demands.

“How else am I supposed to deal with children who don’t know it’s naptime?” Jaebum replies.

“I’m not a _child,_ ” Jinyoung insists. “Seriously, I’m having a hard time believing you’re not into — ”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” Jaebum says as he lays Jinyoung down on the couch. “You’re not a child, you’re a baby.” Even as his words are teasing, his hands are infinitely gentle, cradling the back of Jinyoung’s head so it doesn’t knock against the armrest.

Jinyoung pretends to be annoyed, letting out a huff. “If I’m a baby, then you have to come back for more cuddles.” He tugs on Jaebum’s hand.

Jaebum chuckles but resists the pull. “I actually can’t.”

Jinyoung shoots up, frowning at him. “Why not?”

“I have things to do,” Jaebum chides. “Homework to do, papers to write, a cat to feed.”

“But what about me?” Jinyoung wheedles.

“I already fed you,” Jaebum says with a smile. He crouches down by the couch and coaxes Jinyoung to lay his head back on the armrest, adjusting the pillow against it to provide better padding. “I can come see you again soon, anyway.”

Jinyoung feels him pulling away again and stubbornly clutches his hand even tighter. “You don’t...have to _stay_ stay,” he says reluctantly. “But just a little longer? Until I fall asleep, maybe?”

Jaebum sucks his lips between his teeth, eyes conflicted. “I…can do that. But I have to go afterward, okay?”

“Okay.” Jinyoung settles more comfortably, sinking into the couch cushions. He can’t help but think about how different Jaebum had felt beneath him. He’s set on staying awake for as long as he can — partly because of stubbornness and partly because he doesn’t want Jaebum to do just yet.

But then Jaebum starts singing again. It’s the same melody as before, or at least Jinyoung thinks it is, and Jaebum’s voice is breathy and silvery and makes Jinyoung feel lighter just listening to it.

No matter how much he wants to resist, Jaebum’s singing is lulling him to sleep. If that wasn’t enough, there’s a touch against his hair — petting him softly with gentle strokes in a rhythm that has Jinyoung’s body going loose and sleepy.

The last thing he registers is the rustle of the blanket being pulled over him more surely and the brush of something warm and dry against his forehead.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“So let me get this straight,” Bambam says.

“No straights in this house,” Jinyoung reminds him, pointing at the board hanging crookedly on the wall that reads _WELCOME TO GAY SLUT PARADISE: PREPARE TO DIE EDITION._ “You know the house rules.”

“You know what he means, hyung,” Yugyeom cuts in.

Jinyoung turns and narrows his eyes at him. “Bold of you to assume I’ve ever known anything.”

“Yeah, we know,” Bambam replies. “Which explains why you’re being so stupid with Jaebum.”

“Stupid?” Jinyoung repeats. “ _Stupid?_ This, coming from the idiot who still believes in Santa?”

Bambam blinks. “What’s that supposed to mean? Why wouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, hyung, why wouldn’t he?” Yugyeom is shooting daggers at Jinyoung with his eyes. “Anyway, back to the real point, which is that Jinyoung hyung is stupid — ”

“I’m not stupid!” Jinyoung says hotly. “Or — well, I’m not any more stupid than you two.”

“But what are friends for if not to point out when you’re being stupid?” Yugyeom asks.

“Who said you’re my friends?” Jinyoung grumbles.

“You when you get plastered and you don’t have a dick in your mouth,” Bambam says easily. “Speaking of dicks — the Jaebum situation.”

“Don’t talk about him like that,” Jinyoung says immediately. “He’s not a dick, he’s just…a little slow on the draw, sometimes.”

Bambam and Yugyeom share an obnoxiously knowing look, considering they know _nothing._

“This is what I mean, hyung,” Bambam says. “I said ‘dick,’ and you thought of something other than getting railed. You’re a different man. He’s changed you.”

Jinyoung stiffens, pressing his lips together. “No, he hasn’t. We haven’t even kissed.” His mind unhelpfully provides the memory of the last time he saw Jaebum — or felt him, rather. His fingers stroking Jinyoung’s hair and his lips brushing against his forehead.

But that’s not really anything, Jinyoung reminds himself. Nothing they’ve done is.

“Sure, okay, you haven’t kissed,” Yugyeom allows. “But what about the cuddling?”

Jinyoung’s stomach drops. “What do you mean? Were you _spying_ on me?”

“Not unless you admit there was something to spy on,” Bambam replies.

“It’s not like we were doing it on purpose,” Yugyeom adds. “Sometimes a man just wants a glass of water in his own house and gets assaulted by the sight of two idiots in denial cuddling like they’re in some 90s romcom.”

“I felt more violated than the time we found Jinyoung’s dildo collection in the dishwasher,” Bambam agrees.

“That wasn’t my fault,” Jinyoung interrupts. “You said you were going to be out of town the whole weekend.”

“Like that makes it any better?” Yugyeom asks.

“Moving on from Jinyoung’s inability to cohabitate with other humans,” Bambam says. “You say you haven’t kissed him, you’ve cuddled up to him, you’ve slept with him in the sense of the word that you usually don’t mean. You’ve made a million different accommodations just to spend time with him. Your face goes all stupid when you’re texting him and you don’t even cover your smile. You get protective when you think we’re insulting him.”

“What’s your point?” Jinyoung snaps. Every item Bambam adds to the list feels like a brick in a wall being built around him, like he’s being boxed in.

“My _point,_ ” Bambam says, “is that even if you don’t want to call this dating, you may as well go ahead and take the leap. What’s the difference between what you’re doing now and calling Jaebum your boyfriend?”

“Because I’m not _stuck_ with him,” Jinyoung bursts out. “He’s not my boyfriend, so I don’t — I don’t have to change for him, I don’t have to be anything other than myself because he’s not — I’m not _his._ Okay?”

Bambam and Yugyeom look at him with wide eyes.

“Hyung,” Yugyeom says tentatively, but Jinyoung waves his hand.

“It’s just…not what I do,” Jinyoung says tiredly. “I’m not about spending my college years letting someone else dictate how I live my life.”

Bambam frowns. “You do realize Jaebum isn’t your ex, right? He’s not going to try to make you hide if you start dating.”

“You don’t know that,” Jinyoung says stubbornly. “And we’re not going to start dating, anyway.”

“He literally performs at the Blazing Saddle, hyung,” Yugyeom points out. “He’s not gonna force you back into the closet.”

“I don’t think you could get back into the closet if you tried, actually,” Bambam says. “Like you could start wearing bro tanks and snapbacks and fucking girls — ”

Jinyoung winces. “Let’s not.”

“ — but the point is, you’re already your own person,” Bambam continues. “You’re not a dumb teenager losing yourself in the idea of a relationship. And I don’t think Jaebum is trying to change any of that.”

“He thinks you’re cute like this,” Yugyeom adds. “I mean, god only knows why, but he does.”

“It doesn’t matter what he thinks,” Jinyoung insists, pushing down the warmth fluttering in his chest at the memory of every time Jaebum’s called him cute. “We’re not dating. I don’t date. Not even Im Jaebum.” He flops down on the couch to punctuate his point and turns his back on them. “Now, get out of my room.”

“This is the living room,” Yugyeom says. “But okay.”

Jinyoung picks up the tearaway pants that are still lying in a sad heap on the floor and chucks them at Yugyeom’s head. “Get out of my sight.”

“Come on, Gyeom,” Bambam says. “Obviously, the only one he has eyes for nowadays is Jaebum.”

Jinyoung bolts up, grabbing the pillow beneath his head and preparing to properly whale on them, but they scamper out of his reach before he can do anything. They dash into their bedroom and slam the door behind them, shrieking all the way.

Jinyoung falls back against the couch with a defeated sigh. He doesn’t need to think about their conversation, he decides. Just because Bambam thinks he knows what’s good for Jinyoung better than he knows himself doesn’t mean Jinyoung has to listen to him. He doesn’t have to mull over Bambam’s points about how much he’s already done with Jaebum, or how different this is from his last relationship, or how _cute_ Jaebum apparently thinks he is —

Jinyoung pulls out his phone. He’s not desperate for a distraction, he’s just…bored. That’s all.

The first notification he sees is from Jaebum.

The only reason he clicks on it first is because Jaebum’s sent a picture attachment and he wants to see what it is, Jinyoung tells himself. It’s just normal human curiosity.

When he opens the image, his breath catches and he swallows hard.

It’s a picture of Jaebum lying back against a bedspread that’s familiar for reasons Jinyoung doesn’t want to dwell on, but this picture is entirely different. Jaebum’s grinning so brightly and happily that his eyes are folded into crescents. On his chest, a bundle of fur is curled up, just the hint of a tiny sleeping face peeking out.

 

**Jaebum**  
Nora says get well soon  
Even if you did make her have supper late

 

A tiny huff of fond laughter rises in Jinyoung’s chest, and with a start, he realizes he’s been grinning down at his phone. He locks it, lays it face-down on his chest, and stares up at the ceiling.

He doesn’t need to think about it, he reminds himself. Not about the past and not about the future — and certainly not a future with anyone. Especially not anyone in particular.

No, he thinks, even as the image of Jaebum’s smile lingers in his mind.

He doesn’t need to think about anything at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a while again since the last update! mia's been running and writing for [a fest](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/goodboyfest) as well as dealing with irl things, and cherry is a Real Adult™


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Once you go into the black hole, there’s no coming out,” Yugyeom says seriously.
> 
> “That’s why Jaebum won’t go in,” Bambam says. “He’s a smart little astronaut.” He pauses before adding thoughtfully, “An ass-tronaut.”
> 
> “Jinyoung hyung’s the one with the ass, though,” Yugyeom points out.
> 
> “Yeah, but Jaebum’s the one who’s gonna boldly go where everyone’s gone before,” Bambam replies. “Except he’s not actually going. Because, like I said, he’s a smart little ass-tronaut.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much [mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee) for reading this over for us!!

Jinyoung stares down at his phone. “There’s no way he means it like that.”

Bambam and Yugyeom are crowded around him, their heads shoved into his space as they try to read the screen as well.

“I mean, he’s been pretty stupid before,” Bambam hedges.

Yugyeom hums. “But is he _that_ stupid?”

“Probably,” Bambam replies. “If he’s still hanging around Jinyoung hyung.”

Jinyoung swats at both of them. “I asked you for _help,_ not to insult me.”

“It’s our tax,” Yugyeom says, as if this makes perfect sense. “If you want our help, we get to make fun of you.”

“You make fun of me all the time anyway,” Jinyoung points out, voice bordering on a whine.

“Yeah, but now you just have to take it,” Yugyeom replies gleefully.

Jinyoung shoves him off the couch before continuing the conversation. There’s a layer of dirty laundry on the floor to break his fall, anyway. “Anyway, what do you think about the message?”

Bambam frowns, doubt written clearly across his features. “Well, let’s look at the context. Has he said anything suggestive? Like, ever in his entire life?”

Jinyoung pouts down at his phone, scrolling up through the messages they’ve sent since Jaebum came to visit him while sick. They’re almost entirely innocent — mostly pictures of Nora interspersed with teasing, checking up on Jinyoung, and the occasional truly horrendous dad joke. (Jinyoung certainly hasn’t laughed at any of them. Not a single one.)

And then there’s his most recent message.

 

**Jaebum**  
Do you want to come over for ramen?  
Since that’s your whole thing, apparently  
Haha

 

“Maybe he doesn’t know the connotation,” Bambam suggests. “The phrasing isn’t exactly ‘eat ramen and go.’ Plus, he seems like the kind of guy to invite you over for Netflix and chill and ask what you were doing if you went for the dick.”

“He did say it was Jinyoung’s whole thing though,” Yugyeom says, taking a seat next to Jinyoung on the couch again, albeit with a bit more wary distance between them. “And everyone knows Jinyoung’s whole thing is getting dicked down.”

Jinyoung huffs in protest, but can’t really disagree. “I did tell him that the only thing I really eat is ramen, though,” he admits. “When he was over.”

Bambam makes a doubtful noise. “Then is there any reason to believe he’s basically messaging you to make a dick appointment now? I don’t think he’s even acknowledged that he has a dick around you, has he?”

Jinyoung is about to say no when a memory hits him. “I — wait a second.”

Bambam and Yugyeom, always like sharks with blood when it comes to Jinyoung making a mistake, lean in until he’s practically boxed in from both sides.

“What?” Yugyeom demands. “Did something actually happen while you were sick?”

“He even wanted you like that.” Bambam shakes his head. “And you still haven’t wifed him up.”

“It wasn’t about _wifing_ or anything, just — ” Jinyoung feels his cheeks flush hotly. “I might’ve brought up the dick pic.”

Yugyeom blinks. “Which one, though?”

“The second one,” Jinyoung clarifies. “Which he said was an accident, but — then he said he didn’t mind if I...liked it.”

Yugyeom’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “If you _liked_ it?”

“And then I, uh — ” Jinyoung coughs. “I might’ve — ”

“You asked to see it again, didn’t you?” Bambam asks flatly.

Jinyoung purses his lips. “Maybe so. And then he said — ” He stops dead, realization hitting him. “He basically said not while I was sick.”

Screeching breaks out, his roommates alternating between playing tug of war with his arms and pummeling his shoulders, all the while yelling directly in his ears _the sacrificial pit will finally be sated_ and _Master has given Dobby a cock._

“Why didn’t you tell us about this sooner?” Bambam demands.

Jinyoung stares blankly down at his lap. The honest answer is that he didn’t even realize until now that Jaebum had given him exactly what he’d been working for from the beginning — actual flirting, the suggestive kind that Jinyoung usually deals in. It’s the first time he’s ever acknowledged that Jinyoung clearly wants him for something other than friendship, the very thing Jinyoung’s been anticipating for _weeks —_

And Jinyoung hadn’t noticed.

Now that he thinks about it, he hadn’t even intended for Jaebum to flirt back. He’d said it because Jaebum had seemed off-kilter, nervous about the conversation — because Jaebum always laughs in a special way when he calls Jinyoung ridiculous.

Jinyoung shakes it off, trying to ignore the dread curling in his stomach at the revelation. “Because I knew you’d be fucking idiots about it,” he says brusquely, lying through his teeth. “Look at you losing your minds. You _doubted_ my ability to get dick?”

“Pretty much,” Yugyeom replies.

“Don’t worry, hyung,” Bambam says soothingly. “We just figured you’d catch something else first before the dick.”

“I don’t ‘catch’ anything,” Jinyoung says stubbornly.

“Then how’d you get sick?” Yugyeom points out.

Jinyoung glares at him. “Probably from you.”

“I haven’t even been sick!” Yugyeom protests.

Jinyoung narrows his eyes. “Just because you have one brain cell and can’t actually catch a cold doesn’t mean you aren’t festering with germs — ”

“I’d say it’s because you can’t keep your tongue to yourself, Jinyoung hyung,” Bambam interjects. “Except we all know you haven’t even been kissed in a million years.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Jinyoung whines.

“I can’t believe Jinyoung hyung got sick from dick withdrawal,” Yugyeom marvels.

“Don’t be stupid,” Bambam replies. “You know there isn’t any withdrawing of dicks once they’ve gone past the event horizon.”

“Once you go into the black hole, there’s no coming out,” Yugyeom says seriously.

“That’s why Jaebum won’t go in,” Bambam says. “He’s a smart little astronaut.” He pauses before adding thoughtfully, “An ass-tronaut.”

“Jinyoung hyung’s the one with the ass, though,” Yugyeom points out.

“Yeah, but Jaebum’s the one who’s gonna boldly go where everyone’s gone before,” Bambam replies. “Except he’s not actually going. Because, like I said, he’s a smart little ass-tronaut.”

“Why does not fucking me suddenly upgrade him from stupid to smart?” Jinyoung complains.

“Because your stupid is contagious,” Bambam replies. “Especially because you don’t even realize what you’ve caught.”

“I get tested regularly,” Jinyoung says stubbornly. “I am an _adult_ and I can take care of myself.”

“Yeah,” Yugyeom says, “but you’d rather Jaebum took care of you, anyway.”

Jinyoung stands abruptly, shaking off the other two. “Obviously, I want him to take care of me,” he says roughly. “The whole point of this is getting him to fuck me.”

Yugyeom starts, “I meant — ”

“I’m going to go get ready,” Jinyoung interrupts. “Since I’m going over to Jaebum’s. To get fucked. Probably.”

“Probably?” The doubt is obvious in Bambam’s voice.

“Definitely,” Jinyoung says firmly, stalking off toward his room. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I believe that you believe that,” Bambam calls after him.

Jinyoung makes sure to slam the door with pointed force behind him.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jinyoung knows he doesn’t have time for his full routine. His primary concern is the stubble on his face, which he resolutely attacks with an electric razor, ignoring the memory of Jaebum’s voice saying _it’s cute._

Still, even though he (very generously) shaved down the time on his shaving, the first words out of Jaebum’s mouth when he opens his door are, “What took you so long?”

Jinyoung puffs up indignantly. “I didn’t take _that_ long.”

Jaebum waves him into the apartment with a snort. “It’s a good thing I didn’t cook the noodles when I messaged you, or they’d be bloated and gross by now.”

“Well, maybe you should’ve invited me over sooner,” Jinyoung says with a sniff.

He toes his shoes off in the entryway and follows Jaebum further into the tiny apartment. It’s a studio apartment with Jaebum’s bed tucked into one corner and a desk off to the side next to a small window, but it doesn’t feel cluttered or cramped. Jaebum’s kept it almost freakishly neat — his bed is even made, the only sign that anyone’s ever used it the abundant fur coating the comforter. Well, that and the fact that there’s a familiar feline lounging on it. Her pretty blue eyes track Jinyoung’s movements cautiously, and Jinyoung is very aware that he’s on someone else’s turf.

He hovers awkwardly as Jaebum fiddles with a portable stove on a mat on the floor. The packets of ramen next to the stove and the pot of water set atop it make it very clear that Jaebum was completely serious about literally making ramen.

Distantly, Jinyoung is aware he should be disappointed. He’d come here for a reason, he’d chased Jaebum for this long for a reason, and he got his hopes up and now they’ve been dashed and — he should be disappointed. That’s the only natural reaction to have here.

But then Jaebum looks up from where he’s squatting in front of the stove and grins at him, and it’s so bright and contagious that Jinyoung smiles back without thinking.

There’s the soft _thump_ of tiny feet hitting the floor and a loud meow before Nora walks across the mat between them. She eyes Jinyoung again curiously before turning her attention to Jaebum again.

Jinyoung swallows nervously. He doesn’t want to believe the cat knows, but he thinks she does know — he wants to fuck her dad.

The soft smile that spreads across Jaebum’s face as he looks down at her is familiar by now from the pictures he’s sent. He sits back on the mat and pets her, the motion easy and familiar as she presses her head into it and purrs.

Jaebum looks up at Jinyoung and nods toward the space on the mat next to him. “Why don’t you have a seat?”

Jinyoung hesitates for a moment before pointing at Jaebum’s lap and asking, “Can I sit there?”

Before Jaebum can answer, Nora chirps, clearly wondering why Jaebum’s paused in petting her. She climbs into his lap, nuzzling against his stomach and purring.

Jaebum looks down at her and then flashes a grin at Jinyoung. “Too slow, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung pouts at Nora, who promptly ignores him in favor of licking Jaebum’s exposed knee. Jaebum winces and Jinyoung raises his eyebrows.

“Sandpaper,” Jaebum explains sheepishly.

Jinyoung snorts. “Then why don’t you make her stop?”

“Because she’s doing a good job,” Jaebum replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And I love her.”

Jinyoung begrudgingly sits next to Jaebum, accepting that he clearly doesn’t have dibs on his seat of choice. “I can’t believe I found you on Grindr when all you care about is pussy.”

Jaebum barks out a laugh so abruptly that Nora stops in her ministrations, gives him an affronted glare, and steps daintily off his lap. _How dare you,_ the swish of her tail seems to say as she saunters away.

“Look what you did,” Jaebum pouts.

“I didn’t do anything!” Jinyoung protests. “You’re the one who laughed and scared her away.”

“You made me laugh, though,” Jaebum says, sounding almost whiny. “Was it because she beat you to your spot?”

“No.” Jinyoung leans in until his shoulder bumps into Jaebum’s. “But does that mean I can take it now?”

Jaebum turns his head, blinks slowly down his nose at Jinyoung. “Huh?”

Jinyoung leans in even further, daring to place his hand on Jaebum’s (thick, muscular, _perfect_ ) thigh and rest some of his weight there. “Is this seat taken?”

“It’s — ” At this distance, the click of Jaebum’s throat as he swallows dryly is audible. “I’m not a chair.”

“Not with that attitude.” Jinyoung lets his hand slip further up Jaebum’s thigh, feels the thin material of his basketball shorts riding up with the movement. He feels a little lightheaded at how far he’s being allowed to go, without the usual deflection and avoidance. Maybe Jaebum really had meant for something more to happen when he’d texted, Jinyoung thinks. Maybe it’s all finally falling together —

And then he’s going down — not in the way he’s wanted, but in an awkward heap, because apparently getting too close to Jaebum’s clothed dick makes his entire body jolt like he’s stuck a fork in a toaster. Jinyoung’s hand has slipped right off Jaebum’s thigh and he’s been dumped onto the floor unceremoniously, and all he can do is stare up at Jaebum’s frozen expression and wait for his reaction.

Finally, Jaebum clears his throat. “You almost knocked over the pot.”

Jinyoung blinks uncomprehendingly, his thoughts stuttering at the fact that he is, kind of, lying in Jaebum’s lap. Even if getting there hadn’t gone exactly as planned. “There’s weed?”

“No, the — ” Jaebum points at the portable stove. “The literal pot. The cooking thing. The noodle house.”

“The noodle house,” Jinyoung repeats.

Jaebum coughs. “It’s where they live. I mean, once I put them in. You have to move first, though.”

Jinyoung pouts up at him. “You want me gone?”

“Please.” Jaebum snorts, shifting so Jinyoung rolls awkwardly off his lap and plops onto the mat. “I’m the one who invited you, remember?”

“And yet you put me on the _floor,_ ” Jinyoung whines, throwing his forearm dramatically over his face. “This is how you treat your guests, Im Jaebum?”

“I’m trying to feed you,” Jaebum replies, leaning over to tend to the food. “And what happened to hyung?” He’s hovering over Jinyoung now, his baggy shirt hanging loosely so Jinyoung can glimpse just a hint of a neat little happy trail. He’s so distracted by it that it takes him a moment to register what exactly is printed on Jaebum’s shirt.

Jinyoung bolts upright, very narrowly avoiding smashing his skull directly into Jaebum’s stomach. “What the fuck does your shirt say?”

“Huh?” Jaebum looks down at himself and then back up at Jinyoung. “What about it?”

“You must be joking.” Jinyoung points an accusatory finger at it. “It says _doing it for daddy._ ”

“Oh, yeah.” Jaebum tugs the shirt out to proudly display it. “My friend Youngjae got it for me at church camp. You know, God the Father and all that.”

“Right. Of course.” Jinyoung stares as Jaebum casually starts tearing into the ramen packets and dumping the noodles into the pot. “The big daddy up in the sky. How could I not realize?”

“You must’ve had something else on your mind,” Jaebum says easily. Jinyoung narrows his eyes at him, but Jaebum seems as oblivious as always. He hums to himself absentmindedly as he pokes at the noodles with his chopsticks.

It’s becoming a familiar sight, Jaebum cooking for him. And it isn’t as if no one’s ever done nice things for Jinyoung — even though Yugyeom and Bambam are consistent pains in his ass, they’re good kids at the end of the day — but there’s usually a give and take to it. Not to put too fine a point on it, but Yugyeom and Bambam usually only give him food if they want something from him.

But Jaebum — he hasn’t asked for anything from Jinyoung. Hell, he won’t take what Jinyoung is practically shoving in his face. It’s infuriating, obviously, but there’s also something almost sweet about it, that same sweetness that seems to linger at the edges of all of Jaebum’s words and actions.

“Do you like egg in your ramen?”

Jinyoung blinks, still caught up in his thoughts. “What?”

“Egg.” Jaebum waves his chopsticks vaguely. “Protein is important.”

“Well,” Jinyoung replies, “you know I’m all about protein.”

Jaebum leaps to his feet, nearly skidding on the mat as he zooms toward the refrigerator. “Nothing like eggs for protein! I have some kimchi, too. Not for protein, just for fun.” Before Jinyoung can say anything about those two not being mutually exclusive, Jaebum rambles on, “Do you want to watch a movie? My laptop should be on the bed if you want to load something up on there.”

Jinyoung huffs, recognizing the protein line of seduction as a lost cause. He lets himself sulk a little as he grabs Jaebum’s laptop and sets in on the mat in front of him. It’s not particularly easy, considering that it’s a hulking dinosaur of a device, and Jinyoung wonders if he really should take up Jaebum’s advice to start going to the gym.

Once he gets it open, he’s about to open a browser and go for Netflix, when a small window pops up.

“Do I want to autoplay this DVD?” Jinyoung reads under his breath. Clearly, this is something he needs to tease Jaebum about when he comes back with the eggs. A DVD? Really?

Still, Jinyoung figures, if Jaebum already has a movie in, there’s no reason not to play it.

So, he clicks on it.

When the video starts playing, Jinyoung is, for the first time in many moons, scandalized.

When the sound of moans rings through the apartment, Jaebum nearly drops the carton of eggs. “What —stop, shit, _wait —_ ”

Jinyoung can’t tear his eyes away from the video. It’s basic, really — some making out with the lady’s shirt open and the man pawing artlessly at them in an extremely heterosexual attempt to be roughly sensual — but the context makes it seem like he’s discovered the seediest corner of the human psyche. Jaebum watches _porn_ (or something like it). On a _DVD._

His fingers are nearly collateral damage as Jaebum snaps the laptop shut, panting from how he bolted across the apartment. The suggestive sounds continue playing for a moment before mercifully shutting off and leaving them with nothing but painfully awkward silence between them.

“I told you to stop,” Jaebum says, but his voice sounds like more of a whine than Jinyoung’s ever heard from him before. His entire face is bright pink and his eyes are wide.

“How is this my fault?” Jinyoung demands. “I was an innocent victim just trying to play a movie, and I got subjected to _straight porn —_ ”

“It’s a movie, don’t call it that — ”

“Who the hell keeps their softcore _porn_ ” — Jinyoung leans into the word — “burned on a DVD?”

“Stop _calling_ it that,” Jaebum hisses, his cheeks flaming red. He’s more flustered than Jinyoung’s ever seen him.

“What the hell else am I supposed to call it?” Jinyoung asks. “Fine art?”

“It got award nominations,” Jaebum hedges.

“There was _fondling,_ ” Jinyoung replies. “Her tits were _out._ ”

“They’re award-nominated — breasts,” Jaebum says. “They did a good job.”

“I’ve seen better nipples on a department store mannequin,” Jinyoung replies stubbornly.

“There’s no such thing as a bad nipple,” Jaebum says staunchly. “You just have unrealistic expectations.”

“Sorry for expecting porn to be sexy.”

“It’s not! Porn!” Jaebum’s voice cracks into a sound that’s almost a scream. “Why are you _doing this —_ ”

“Every fat baby joke led you to this point,” Jinyoung replies. “Reflect on your choices.”

“I don’t deserve this,” Jaebum moans. “I’m a good person.”

“Not good enough, apparently.” Jinyoung grins. “The big daddy in the sky clearly sent this as divine intervention to tell you to be nicer to me.”

“I’m so nice to you,” Jaebum protests. “I bring you into my home, I _feed_ you — ” He cuts off abruptly with a gasp. “Oh, god, my noodles.”

“Don’t think you’re getting out of this conversation,” Jinyoung calls after him as Jaebum shoots off toward the kitchenette again to get bowls. “I know your secrets, hyung. You jerk it to bad straight porn.”

“Let me live,” Jaebum complains as he returns, settling back onto the mat and starting to pull noodles from the pot and into a bowl. “I’m allowed to like girls too.”

“I don’t care that you like girls,” Jinyoung replies. “I care that you can’t find porn that does girls justice. Seriously, I can help you find better stuff than that — ”

Jaebum shoves the bowl and another pair of chopsticks into Jinyoung’s hands hastily, the broth sloshing dangerously close to the edge. “Please put this in your mouth and stop talking.”

“You know,” Jinyoung says casually, “there are other things you could put in my mouth to make me stop talking.”

“Is my ramen not good enough for you?” Jaebum asks with a pout. “How many times are you going to question my taste in three minutes?”

Jinyoung pauses for a second. “Your shorts are also kind of ugly. There, it’s a hat trick.”

“I give you the only bowl in my house and this is how you treat me?” Jaebum grumbles, serving the remaining noodles from the pot into an orange-stained tupperware container.

“Well.” Jinyoung pokes at his noodles. “After everything I gave you, you still made the fat baby jokes.”

“After everything you gave me?” Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “Like what?”

Jinyoung pauses. “My presence. My sparkling personality. My shining visuals.”

Jaebum bursts out laughing, elbowing Jinyoung lightly. “Well, thanks for sharing those with me, even with all the bad jokes. In my defense, though, you should see your face when I make them.”

“Is my face normally not good enough for you?” Jinyoung sniffs.

“I never said anything about your normal face,” Jaebum replies. “But when you pout, the corners of your mouth go all cute — you kind of look like a kitten.”

“You and your _pussies,_ ” Jinyoung grumbles. “I’m never going to be free, am I?”

Jaebum snorts into his bowl. “Eat your food and stop complaining.”

“But _hyung._ ” Jinyoung pouts, looking up at Jaebum through his lashes. “I thought you said I was cute like this?”

Jaebum hastily looks away, clears his throat, scoops up almost all the noodles in his makeshift bowl, apparently unhinges his jaw, and shoves them into his mouth in one magnificently oversized bite.

Jinyoung stares, his own noodles forgotten. “I — what the fuck?”

Jaebum stares back at him, cheeks stuffed with noodles. “Mngh?”

Jinyoung valiantly tries to hold back a laugh, but still ends up giggling behind his hand. “You look like a chipmunk.” Jaebum makes a muffled noise of protest, but Jinyoung ignores him. “Here,” he says, pulling some of the noodles out of his bowl and setting them in Jaebum’s. “Since you need it, apparently.”

Jaebum swallows down his mouthful with an audible gulp. “It’s fine, I don’t — ”

Jinyoung shushes him. “I need to be a good dongsaeng, don’t I?” He grins. “I need to take care of my hyung.”

Jaebum’s reaction is rewarding enough on his own — his cheeks flush bright pink and he ducks his face into his bowl, mumbling inaudibly as he pushes the noodles around with his chopsticks.

And, sure, Jinyoung was anticipating that reaction, the exact type of flustered sweetness he’s used to prodding at until he’s in someone’s lap (or bed, or futon, or anything, really). It’s painfully obvious how seriously Jaebum takes the idea of being the hyung, the responsibility for taking care of those younger than him. It’s only natural for Jinyoung to lean into it to get what he wants.

But there’s also an uncomfortable honesty that seems to attach itself to Jinyoung’s words without his intention. He might mean it in a way that plays to his advantage, but the fact that Jaebum has done him this good turn — and others besides — weighs on his mind and his words until their light flirtation feels like…more. It lingers on Jinyoung’s tongue, curls the corners of his lips up into an unbidden smile even as Jaebum grumbles and shoves more noodles into his oversized mouth.

Jinyoung clears his throat and lifts a (moderately-sized) bite of noodles to his mouth. “Well,” he says through his mouthful, “what do you want to do now, since we’re not watching your porn?”

Jaebum chokes on his food, eyes bulging as he doubles over wheezing. “What do you want to do?” he chokes out.

“Well — ” Jinyoung starts.

“No strip anything,” Jaebum says hastily. “All clothes are staying on.”

“You’re _boring._ ” Jinyoung pouts. “What else do you have in mind, then?”

“Uh.” Jaebum visibly stalls for time. “Never Have I Ever?” Jinyoung lights up at that, but Jaebum immediately adds, “Actually, let’s not — uh — maybe, um — ”

“We could just…take turns asking each other questions?” Jinyoung offers. “And we have to answer honestly or do a penalty.”

Jaebum pulls a face. “Maybe something more, you know, innocent?”

“That’s totally innocent,” Jinyoung lies.

Jaebum eyes him doubtfully, wiping his mouth and setting down his empty bowl. “Is it?”

“Definitely.” Jinyoung gives him a wide-eyed look. “You can start, if you want.”

Jaebum sighs. “Okay. Um. What’s your favorite color?”

Jinyoung stares at him. “Are you serious?”

“I mean — why not?” Jaebum shrugs. “What else would I ask?”

Jinyoung bites back the _you sweet summer child_ on the tip of his tongue. He settles for saying, “White.”

Jaebum blinks. “Really?”

“What?” Jinyoung shifts awkwardly, off-kilter with the conversation being focused on some part of him that’s…actually _him._

“I don’t know, you just seemed more…red. Or orange? Or pink, maybe.” Jaebum cocks his head thoughtfully. “Something loud. And warm. White is so…pure.” He chuckles. “But maybe that suits you, too.”

It’s a little too much, to hear how Jaebum sees him like this. It’s a little too far past flirting, past touching, past Jinyoung’s comfort zone, out where he hasn’t guarded himself or even thought to expect it.

Jinyoung takes another bite of noodles. There’s a beat of quiet where he could reply to Jaebum, where he could ask him for an explanation.

He lets it pass. Clears his throat. And he asks, “How about you? What’s your favorite color?”

Jaebum hums thoughtfully. “Gray.” He grins at Jinyoung. “Any judgments on my character you want to pass from that?”

Jinyoung resists the urge to give in to his immediate instinct to tell Jaebum, _Yes, you’re boring,_ and sits back, taking a moment to look at him. And maybe _boring_ is his first instinct when he thinks of gray, of boys who don’t know how to handle his advances, whose idea of a good time is sitting on the floor in his cramped studio apartment and eating ramen and playing middle school sleepover games.

But Jaebum and gray feels…soft. Like a favorite cozy sweater so often-worn it’s lost its color. Like twilight easing into nighttime once the harsh sun is gone. Like rainy days spent in bed with music playing so quietly the words are indistinguishable beyond simple impressions.

“It suits you,” Jinyoung says finally.

Jaebum’s mouth quirks up in a boyish smile that makes Jinyoung’s stomach flip slowly. “Are you just copying me because you don’t know what to say?”

Jinyoung scoffs. “I always know what to say.”

“Really?” Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “Because first you copied my question, and then you copied my answer so, you know, it looks a little sketchy — ”

Jinyoung kicks out at him, trying to to laugh along when Jaebum snickers. “Ask your next question, then, if you’re so creative.”

“Hmm.” Jaebum knocks his feet together as he thinks. “What’s your favorite poem?”

Jinyoung stares at him. “Are these really the kinds of questions you want to ask?”

“Well, yeah?” Jaebum frowns. “Why not?”

Jinyoung sighs. “I don’t know why I expected any differently, actually.”

“So, does that mean you don’t have an answer?” Jaebum prods.

“Maybe!” Jinyoung huffs. “Who reads poetry outside of readings for class? Like, _really?_ You’re telling me you just pick up poetry anthologies for the hell of it?”

Jaebum hesitates. “Okay, you have a point.”

“Damn right I do,” Jinyoung grumbles.

“But,” Jaebum continues, “you technically didn’t answer my question. So, that means you need to be punished.”

Jinyoung bats his eyelashes at him. “How are you gonna punish me, hyung?”

“I — ” Jaebum swallows audibly.

“Spanking is always an option,” Jinyoung offers. “Although, I don’t know how much of a punishment it would — ”

“Forehead flicks!” Jaebum blurts out. “We can do forehead flicks. That works, right?”

Jinyoung exhales slowly. “I _guess._ ”

He doesn’t think there’s any particularly seductive way to take a forehead flick, so he just pouts as Jaebum sits up on his knees and prepares to deliver the fatal blow. With all the babying and caretaking, Jinyoung kind of expects Jaebum to go easy on him.

He is sorely mistaken.

Jaebum’s fat middle finger strikes Jinyoung’s forehead with a hollow _plunk_ and pain shoots through Jinyoung’s skull. He’s endured worse, even by accident as collateral to Yugyeom and Bambam’s brainless hijinks — but hissing and shaking it off won’t get him any special attention.

Jinyoung clutches at his head and hits the floor with a pained wail. “You tried to _kill_ me!”

There’s a snort of laughter and then the same hand that so grievously wounded him is pushing his bangs back and settling over his own hands. “I think you’re being dramatic.”

“I am not _dramatic,_ ” Jinyoung says emphatically. “I am _mortally wounded._ ”

“You poor thing,” Jaebum coos, the effect tainted by the obvious laugh he’s barely holding back. He’s leaning over Jinyoung, one hand on his head as the other holds up his weight and effectively cages Jinyoung in. “What can I do to make it up to you?”

Jinyoung removes his hands from his face and pouts up at him. “Kiss it better, hyung.”

Jaebum freezes. “I — what?”

“You know.” Jinyoung points at his forehead. “Smooch.”

Jaebum lets out a huff of incredulous laughter. “It’s not much of a punishment then, is it?”

“You still _hurt_ me,” Jinyoung wheedles. “I’m baby.”

Jaebum blinks down at him. “You are a grown man.”

“I’m _baby,_ ” Jinyoung insists. “And everyone knows babies get kisses.”

“Only if they’re vaccinated,” Jaebum mumbles. “Have you had your shots? Do you have your paperwork?”

“ _Hyung._ ”

Jaebum chuckles and shakes his head. “Park Jinyoung,” he says quietly, his voice barely more than a deep whisper as he leans in, “you are really something else, you know that?”

“I do my best,” Jinyoung whispers back. “It’s how I get my kisses.”

Jaebum is still laughing when his lips brush against Jinyoung’s forehead, tiny puffs of air obvious against Jinyoung’s skin. “Good enough?” he murmurs, his lips still just barely touching like a butterfly kiss.

Jinyoung nods wordlessly. The motion presses him a breath closer to Jaebum, almost another kiss but not quite.

“Your lips weren’t as chapped last time,” Jinyoung manages.

Regret floods through him as Jaebum clambers back hastily, leaving Jinyoung feeling cold in his absence.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jaebum mutters.

Jinyoung frowns, sitting up. “Hyung — ”

“What’s your next question?” Jaebum interrupts. “It’s your turn, so — go ahead.”

Jinyoung chews at his lip, observing Jaebum and trying to figure out what exactly he’s trying to hide.

And then he realizes — he can just ask him.

“Why did you kiss me?” he asks quietly. “When I was sick and you sang me to sleep, you kissed my forehead before you left, right? So, why?”

Jaebum shoves the last bite of noodles into his mouth instead of answering, the slurping sounds loud in the silence.

Jinyoung waits impatiently. He doesn’t have any noodles left, so there’s only so much longer he can avoid the question.

Jaebum stares down at his tupperware then glances up at Jinyoung. “I thought you were asleep.”

“That’s not a real answer.”

Jaebum raises his eyebrows. “Then what’s a real answer, in your opinion?”

“I mean — ” Jinyoung pauses to figure out how to rephrase the question. “What made you _want_ to?”

“That’s a different question,” Jaebum mumbles, avoiding Jinyoung’s eyes.

“Only if you’re being difficult,” Jinyoung insists. “Hyung, come on.”

Jaebum heaves a sigh. “Flick me.”

“What?”

Jaebum gestures to his forehead. “Flick me, because I’m not answering.”

Jinyoung pouts at him. “What’s the point of this game if you don’t answer?”

“Well, you didn’t answer my last question,” Jaebum points out.

“That was different!” Jinyoung huffs. “I actually didn’t know the answer to your question.”

Jaebum shrugs. “Maybe I don’t know either.” Before Jinyoung can say anything more, Jaebum reaches out and tugs at Jinyoung’s wrist. “Come on. Rules are rules, aren’t they?”

Jinyoung scans his face, debating the merits of trying to push for more of an explanation — he doesn’t know why he kissed Jinyoung, really — before giving in. He leans in and Jaebum closes his eyes to brace for the strike.

Without thinking, Jinyoung leans in and presses his lips to Jaebum’s forehead.

It’s over before he can really process it and Jinyoung throws himself back hastily, tugging his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around him. He tries to ignore how his mind keeps replaying the sensations of the kiss like it’s trying to imprint them in his mind — the warmth of Jaebum’s skin, the scent of his shampoo, the tiniest intake of breath that Jinyoung could hear.

“That wasn’t a flick,” Jaebum says.

Jinyoung shrugs. He can feel Jaebum’s gaze burning into the side of his face but he stares down at his knees. “Consider us even. What’s your question?”

For a moment, he doesn’t know if Jaebum is going to let it slide, but he acquiesces with a sigh. “Okay. Um.” He sets his empty bowl down and leans back on his hands. “I know you don’t really do this, but what’s the best date you’ve ever been on?”

Jinyoung stiffens. “You know I don’t really do it, so what’s the point in asking?”

“I guess…I don’t know, it’s the sort of thing I’d like to know? But you don’t have to answer, obviously.”

“No, I’ll answer,” Jinyoung says reluctantly. “Your fat fingers hurt too much to be worth kisses.”

Jaebum chuckles, stretching his leg out to poke at Jinyoung’s knee with his toes. “Play nice, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung sticks his tongue out, the lightness Jaebum makes him feel at odds with the heavy nervousness twisting in his stomach. “Fine. Uh…I don’t know what exactly counts as a date for you.”

“If it was a date to you, it’s a date to me,” Jaebum says easily. “Just eating ramen on the floor can be a date.” He seems to realize what he’s said at the same time that Jinyoung does, because his eyes widen and he trips over himself to amend, “I mean, if you want. It’s not, you know, _necessary —_ ”

“It’s okay,” Jinyoung interrupts, cheeks surprisingly warm at the sudden framing of this as something else. Then again, he thinks, it’s obviously not a hookup. But — he doesn’t need to think about it. He focuses on answering the question instead. “If that counts, then I guess the best date was…prom of my senior year.”

Jaebum makes a surprised noise. “Why wouldn’t that be a date, anyway?”

Jinyoung snorts. “Because we didn’t go anywhere. I mean, I thought we were going to go together and — pretend to be just friends in public or something. I rented a tux and everything. Got really excited about matching pocket squares and shit.” He laughs ruefully. “But he didn’t want to risk it in the end, so we just…stayed in and watched a movie. But it was nice because we had the basement to ourselves for once, since his little sister actually did go to prom. So, we held hands and cuddled and stuff. Shared a blanket. It was…nice.”

He doesn’t dare to look at Jaebum. It’s one thing to make a fool of himself trying to get laid, but to let Jaebum see him sick or embarrassed or bittersweetly nostalgic — it’s intimate in an unfamiliar way.

Eventually, Jaebum says, voice light and warm, “You sound like a romantic, Jinyoung-ah.”

“Right.” Jinyoung snorts. “So romantic, a couple of pimply teenage boys sharing a blanket that smells like the family dog and having to jump to opposite sides of the couch whenever his parents checked on us.”

Jaebum laughs, sympathetic and fond. “A special kind of romantic, anyway.”

“I don’t think anyone’s called me that before,” Jinyoung says wryly.

“Aw, come on,” Jaebum replies. “Matching pocket squares? That’s like couple’s jewelry for straight people.”

Jinyoung splutters with laughter. He can’t remember the last time he talked about this, and he knows he’s never laughed about it before. But now, he looks up at sees Jaebum’s eyes curved fondly into a sweet smile, and the sound bubbles up in him without any effort.

“Well, if you’ve had enough fun at teenage Jinyoung’s expense,” Jinyoung says. “I think it’s my turn to ask a question.”

Jaebum grins at him. “Ask away.”

“Okay.” Jinyoung sits up primly. “When and how did you lose your virginity?”

Jaebum blinks rapidly. “I — _sorry?_ ”

“Your virginity,” Jinyoung repeats. “I want the details.”

“Right.” Jaebum gives a defeated sigh. “Of course, you do. Um…well, she was an older girl who went to my church. She sang in the choir and — she looked like an angel. For real.”

Something squeezes in Jinyoung’s chest as he watches a faint smile cross Jaebum’s face.

“I was seventeen,” Jaebum continues. “And I went over to her place while her parents were out of town. Typical teenager stuff, right?”

“Right,” Jinyoung echoes.

“And I don’t know, maybe I just have rose-tinted glasses or nostalgia changes things, but — it was really nice? Kind of awkward just because, but…she was sweet.” Jaebum hums pensively. “She’s a lesbian now.”

Jinyoung is snorting out a laugh before he can stop himself, curling over on himself and wheezing behind his hand.

“Hey, why are you laughing?” Jaebum hits him lightly on the arm, but he’s grinning. “Is it that funny to you?”

“A little bit,” Jinyoung manages. “What did you _do_ to that poor girl?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Jaebum protested. “Except exactly what she told me to do.”

“Sure you did,” Jinyoung replies. “Then how did you manage to turn her off sex with guys forever?”

Jaebum splutters, half-offended, half-laughing. “You don’t know that!”

“Maybe your dick could even turn me straight,” Jinyoung muses.

“ _God._ ” Jaebum covers his face with a groan. “I don’t think anyone could do that.”

Jinyoung raises his eyebrows. “We could find out?”

“Next question!” Jaebum stares resolutely up at the ceiling. “So, past dating experience aside, what’s your ideal date? Like, no rules, no restrictions. Anything you want.”

Jinyoung hesitates. “I…don’t know.”

“You have to answer.” Jaebum wiggles his fingers threateningly at Jinyoung. “Or face the consequences.”

Jinyoung wrinkles his nose and leans away. “Give me a second to think.”

“You haven’t thought about it before at all?”

“Well, there’s no use daydreaming about it.” Jinyoung purses his lips. “I guess…I don’t know, probably nothing complicated.”

“Really?”

Jinyoung clasps his hands in front of himself and rubs at his knuckles distractedly. “Haven’t you noticed? I’m pretty straightforward.”

Jaebum snorts quietly. “That’s very true.”

“Going out would be nice,” Jinyoung muses. “But I kind of like the idea of a night just completely dedicated to spending time together.”

“Spending time together?” Jaebum asks. “Doing what?”

An automatic response rises to Jinyoung’s lips — something suggestive, obviously — but he bites it back. It wouldn’t hurt to let himself indulge in this just for a moment. Since Jaebum asked.

“Just basic things, probably,” he says finally. “Dinner and a movie, but it’s all at home, maybe. Comfort food, maybe even something he made? I don’t know, that might be too much to ask.” He huffs out a shy laugh.

“It’s not,” Jaebum says quietly. “I mean — it’s your ideal date. No restrictions, remember?”

“Right.” Jinyoung pauses before continuing, “And the movie shouldn’t be something serious, you know? Just the kind of movie you can talk over, because — ” He bites his lip. “The talking is really the thing I’d like the most, I think. Finding someone easy to talk to is…hard.” He takes a deep breath. “That’s it, really.”

When he lets himself look up again, Jaebum is watching him with an unreadable expression.

“What?” Jinyoung asks self-consciously. “I answered the question, didn’t I?”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” Jaebum says, voice low like the question isn’t really meant for Jinyoung.

“Well. I try.” Jinyoung picks at the cat hair on his jeans that he’s apparently picked up without realizing.

“Hey.” Jaebum’s voice is gentle. “What’s your next question for me?”

Tension Jinyoung hadn’t realized he was holding in his shoulders ekes out at the attention being shifted away from him — and when the hell did _that_ become what he wanted?

He takes a quick breath. “What’s the worst kiss you’ve ever had?”

Jaebum frowns. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had a really bad one?”

Any lingering thoughts Jinyoung had about the last question fly out of his head as he gapes at Jaebum. “That’s not possible.”

“Why not?”

“You kiss _men,_ ” Jinyoung stresses.

Jaebum barks out a laugh. “You’re a man. Are you really going to be so harsh on us?”

“Yes,” Jinyoung says flatly. “You’re really telling me a man hasn’t tried to fuck your tonsils with his tongue? _Ever?_ You’re really going to lie to my face like that?”

Jaebum snickers. “That’s fair. I mean, they start off like that, but — a kiss is always salvageable, isn’t it?”

Jinyoung gives him a doubtful look. “That still sounds fake.”

“I’m serious!”

“It _still_ ” — Jinyoung leans in with an earnest expression — “sounds _fake._ ”

Jaebum tilts his chin defiantly. “It isn’t.”

“Prove it.”

“Prove — ?” Jaebum grasps for words, his mouth working silently for a moment. “That — what do you mean?”

Jinyoung tilts his head and bites his lower lip playfully. “Come on, hyung. You can’t talk a big game like that and not back it up.”

Jaebum’s eyes drop to Jinyoung’s mouth and he can’t seem to tear them away even as his own lips part unconsciously. He swallows hard, the bob of his adam’s apple obvious. “I can’t, huh?”

“What?” Jinyoung pouts. “Am I not deserving of your great kissing prowess?”

Jaebum huffs out a laugh, but it’s slightly breathless and his gaze is still fixed on Jinyoung’s lips. “Please.”

“Then what is it?” Jinyoung dares to press closer, just enough that the line between his space and Jaebum’s starts to blur.

“Maybe my standards are just different from yours,” Jaebum suggests, but he isn’t leaning away. If anything, he seems to sway ever so slightly toward Jinyoung, like the tide to the moon. “I think your expectations might be too high.”

Jinyoung licks his lips. “Try me, hyung.”

He thinks for a moment that he’s pushed too far, that Jaebum is going to pull back, that he’s going to realize that no, he doesn’t actually want to kiss Jinyoung even after all this time —

And then Jaebum’s nose brushes against his and he isn’t thinking anything at all.

There’s a moment that draws out between them where they’re lips aren’t touching but — it _feels_ like a kiss, like closeness and warmth and intimacy. Jinyoung’s eyes are already fluttering shut even before Jaebum’s touched him, breath soft and hot against his lips. There’s a touch against his neck — Jaebum’s hand coming up to cup his jaw, warm and firm but gentle all the same.

The first press of his lips against Jinyoung’s feels almost too tender to bear.

It would almost be chaste to start if it weren’t for how soft Jaebum’s lips are, how they fit against Jinyoung’s with an ease that feels unreal. It’s gentle pressure and the slow slide of a kiss just warming up, but Jinyoung already feels suspended in space, like the only thing that’s real are the points of contact where Jaebum’s skin is flushed against his.

Jinyoung lets his lips part just slightly, an invitation far more subtle than he usually gives, to Jaebum or to anyone.

Jaebum breathes in deeply before he presses back in, his movements more decisive this time as the kiss opens up, builds a rhythm, turns wet and heated in a way that it wasn’t before. His other hand comes up and rests on the back of Jinyoung’s neck. Jaebum cradles him as his thumb drags in slow sweeps across the sensitive skin of Jinyoung’s nape, his lips never pausing as the kiss deepens.

The way Jaebum kisses him is fluid, his movements melting into each other until all Jinyoung can process is the heat buzzing through his mind and body. His tongue teases at Jinyoung’s for just a moment before he pulls back and suckles at Jinyoung’s fat lower lip, slick and hungry, then lets it slip free with a light drag of his teeth that has Jinyoung gasping into his mouth.

When Jaebum draws back, Jinyoung tries to chase his lips with a tiny whine. All he gets in return is a chuckle and a chiding tap on the nose.

“Was that sufficient proof?” Jaebum murmurs, his voice slightly huskier than usual.

“I — ” Jinyoung swallows hard and tries to control his breathing. “What?” And then it hits him again — the questions game, the teasing, the challenge. “Oh! Well — ” He bites his lip, still moist from the kiss. “I mean, I could always use more proof. Multiple trials and all that.”

Jaebum laughs, his eyes curving into those now familiar crescents, and Jinyoung’s stomach swoops. “I already gave you my best work. If I didn’t convince you, there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“I don’t know about that,” Jinyoung says, leaning back on his hands and looking up at Jaebum through his lashes. “You could always do more to convince me.”

Jaebum’s eyes flicker downward briefly, far too modest considering how sensually he’d just kissed Jinyoung. “Could I?” he asks quietly.

“I’m always open,” Jinyoung replies. “To convincing, I mean. And other things.”

The laugh that leaves Jaebum’s lips this time is smaller, almost rueful. “Are you?”

“Of course,” Jinyoung replies. “I’m pretty easy.”

Jaebum hums thoughtfully, looking down and smoothing out a corner of the mat that’s folded under itself. “I don’t know about that.”

Jinyoung is sure the shock is apparent on his face. There are a number of insults he’ll take to heart and sulk over easily, but being a bit (or more than a bit) of a slut is something he wears as a badge of pride. And Jaebum — he knows it by now, doesn’t he? Even with his initial obliviousness, their conversations have started to circle more and more closely around the fact that Jinyoung clearly wants him.

At least, Jinyoung had thought so. What else would their conversations be about?

Jaebum glances down at his phone. “It’s getting late.”

The unexpected change of topic leaves Jinyoung frozen on the mat as Jaebum abruptly picks up their bowls and stands. “It’s not _that_ late.”

“I have — stuff to work on tonight,” Jaebum mumbles as he places the dishes carefully in the sink. “And I need to clean up before I can focus on anything, so. It’s late enough.”

“I could stay here and do stuff with you,” Jinyoung offers, still bewildered by the suddenness with which Jaebum had halted their conversation.

Jaebum mutters something. Jinyoung can barely pick out what sounds like _what I’m worried about._ But when Jaebum clears his throat and speaks up, all he says is, “Maybe not tonight.”

The rejection stings more than it should. Hell, he should be used to it by now, considering how slow their progress has been. He obviously wasn’t going to get fucked today in any case, there’s no reason for him to want to linger around Jaebum’s tiny, fur-coated apartment anyway, there’s nothing to keep him here —

Jinyoung stands stiffly. “I’ll just head out, then.”

“What?” Jaebum whirls around to face him. “I’m still going to walk you home, though.”

Against all reason, Jinyoung finds himself soothed. He lets out a short, awkward laugh. “I’ve never had a dick appointment walk me home before.”

Jaebum smiles at him tightly — completely different from what Jinyoung had been aiming for. He’d hoped for a laugh, the one that’s always accompanied by a _Jinyoung-ah_ or a _you’re ridiculous._ He feels like he’s missed a step going down the stairs.

Jinyoung tries again, a little desperately. “I mean, I usually can’t walk afterward anyway.”

He gets a laugh at that, but it’s not the one he was hoping for.“I’ve walked you home before,” Jaebum says simply. “Even when you couldn’t walk. Why don’t you get your shoes on?”

Jinyoung shuts up and shuffles mutely over toward the entryway to do as he’s been told. His mind races as Jaebum follows suit, opens the door, and gestures for him to step out. Why didn’t Jaebum laugh? Why did it bother Jinyoung? Why is it _still_ bothering him, to the point that he can’t pull himself out of his head and talk to Jaebum as they make their way down the sidewalk?

It hits him, as they walk in silence, that he’s never been awkward quite like this around Jaebum before. There have been times where it felt like they were on different wavelengths, but they always seemed to find some kind of harmony, no matter how strange. But now he feels distinctly _off,_ dissonant, left with his head ringing all wrong and no idea how to solve it.

He’s so caught up in his thoughts that they’re at his building before he knows it. How do they end the night from here? he wonders. Normally, he’d at least throw out an invitation to come inside, but he can’t even bring himself to fully consider it before he’s trashing the idea.

He wants to leave it on a good note. He wants Jaebum to smile, _really_ smile, before he goes inside.

“This is you, yeah?” Jaebum asks. They’re the first words he’s spoken since they left his place, and his voice is more timid than usual.

Jinyoung racks his brain, running through each instinctive response he has and casting it aside. Every joke he can think of feels wrong, and he can’t stop picturing that tight smile Jaebum had given him back in the apartment and dreading the thought of prompting another one.

“I — ” Jinyoung licks his lips. “I had a nice time tonight.” It had felt like a stale, cookie-cutter response when he thought of it — but now that he’s saying it, he realizes it feels truer than when he’d tried to make Jaebum laugh in the apartment. He repeats himself, letting this realization seep into the words. “A great time, actually.”

Finally, Jaebum smiles. He doesn’t beam at him or burst out laughing, but it has a warmth to it that reaches his eyes and he steps closer to Jinyoung. “Really?”

“Really,” Jinyoung says immediately. “We should…do it again sometime?” There should be a suggestion for something more here, he thinks. He should drop a hint, make a joke, do _something —_

But Jaebum tilts his head, his hair falling into his eyes unable to hide how they’re sparkling, and Jinyoung can’t think of a single word to say.

“I’d like that,” Jaebum murmurs. “We’ll see each again soon?”

Jinyoung nods eagerly, feeling a smile spread across his face at the reassurance. “Yeah. Yes, I — I’d like that, too.”

Jaebum hesitates, then leans falteringly into Jinyoung’s space.

Jinyoung stands frozen as he watches Jaebum’s face draw nearer to his, until he can see at least three moles he hasn’t noticed before and the gleam on his lips from where he’d been biting them. Closer and closer, and Jinyoung’s heart is pounding so wildly inside his chest that it aches and his mind won’t stop playing the memory of the kiss and his lips are almost tingling with anticipation —

Jaebum’s lips on his cheek are fleeting and sweet, barely there before they’re gone again.

Jinyoung forgets how to breathe.

_Oh._

“I’ll text you,” Jaebum says as he pulls back, looking down and tracing the sidewalk crack with the toe of his shoe. “Good night, Jinyoung-ah.”

“Good night,” Jinyoung echoes automatically. He lets himself watch Jaebum’s back as he leaves for just a moment before he scrabbles for the door and launches himself inside.

The fact that he was happy just to be kissed on the cheek. The evening they spent together that Jinyoung had practically described to Jaebum as his ideal date. The way he wanted to see Jaebum smile even if it didn’t get him any closer to getting into bed with him.

Jinyoung leans back against the wall and slides to the floor with a _thump,_ head in his hands.

He has to do something about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
>  [👉👉](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C9P9xQ_NAC8)   
> 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaebum rolls over on his side and looks at Nora curled up on the pillow beside his head. With a sigh, he reaches out and pets her. “Why can’t everyone be like you? Humans are too complicated.”
> 
> She blinks at him.
> 
> He groans. “Don’t look at me like that, I know I’m being stupid.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so much to [mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitee) and [cel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryliner) for looking this over for us!! ♡

Jaebum tries to focus on the rhythm of the sponge against the dish instead of his thoughts.

It doesn’t work.

No matter how hard he scrubs, how loudly the water rushes out of the faucet, how much the bowl clatters against the sink, he can’t shake the memories of Jinyoung — confessing he’d never been on a proper date, lighting up at the opportunity to tease, blossoming beneath his lips and letting Jaebum kiss him like it was all he wanted, like _Jaebum_ was all he wanted —

Jaebum shuts off the faucet jerkily and grabs a towel so he can mechanically wipe the bowl dry.

It would be easier, he thinks, if he still felt hopeless about Jinyoung wanting him for more than sex. Even when his lewd comments make Jaebum’s optimism recede, Jinyoung somehow always manages to make it come crashing back even stronger than before. How does he reconcile the boy who’s explicitly told him he only wants sex with the boy who was just sitting on his floor? The boy whose voice went so soft when he talked about the past? The boy who described his ideal date as what he was doing with Jaebum right that second?

How is Jaebum supposed to know what to think when Jinyoung’s words and actions are so contradictory they leave his head spinning?

Jaebum puts the bowl away and closes the cabinet a little too forcefully.

With clean-up taken care of, there’s nothing to distract him now. Not that it was really doing much to distract him anyway, he reflects. But now he has nothing to do but flop pitifully down on his bed and think about Jinyoung. Since that’s all he seems to do nowadays, anyway.

And yet, with all the thought he’s devoted to Jinyoung, he still feels no closer to figuring him out. If anything, he feels more confused than ever, each new layer somehow slotting perfectly into his evolving understanding of Jinyoung and shattering what he thinks he knows.

He rolls over on his side and looks at Nora curled up on the pillow beside his head. With a sigh, he reaches out and pets her. “Why can’t everyone be like you? Humans are too complicated.”

She blinks at him.

He groans. “Don’t look at me like that, I know I’m being stupid.”

She lets out a tiny chirp.

“Well, there’s no need for name-calling, miss. It’s not my fault he has stupid rules about hookups.” He frowns. “I mean, I guess I also have rules about hookups, but — it’s different.”

She blinks slowly at him. He lets out a whine and buries his face in her belly.

“How does he not realize, at this point?” He mumbles into her fur. “He has to think about things other than dick sometimes, right?”

Nora lets out a tiny noise that sounds rather dubious.

“Maybe kissing him was a mistake.” Jaebum lets out a frustrated huff. “But if he doesn’t get that I want to do more than just fuck after that kiss, then what am I supposed to do? Write him a love song?” He pauses and then his eyes widen. “Nora, you’re a genius.”

Nora meows and paws at his cheek.

He sits up, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before launching himself off the bed and heading for his desk with new determination.

He may not know how Jinyoung feels yet. But he’s sure as hell going to make his own feelings absolutely clear.

 

 

* * *

 

 

In hindsight, Jaebum forgot to account for a very important factor in this song-writing plan. Namely, that writing is hard. (And not the fun kind, a voice that sounds like Jinyoung supplies.)

He shoves his hands through his hair, leaving it a ruffled mess as he stares at his blank screen. There’s already a melody to work with, the one he’d hummed to Jinyoung when they were tangled up on the couch, but words are failing him.

He doesn’t know where to start. Trying to put words to this feeling, trying to condense it down into something he can put to a melody — it’s not that he has nothing to say, it’s that there’s so much it feels like his mind is overflowing. There’s the attraction, of course, but there’s everything else Jinyoung stirs in him too. The longing, the wonder, the fear that even thinking about any of this is going to somehow shatter his heart. All of it, revolving around Jinyoung.

And yet, he can’t seem to stop himself. Somehow, this boy who’s everything Jaebum isn’t supposed to want has stormed into Jaebum’s mind and made a wreck of it, left his fingerprints on every last thing until they’re almost more his than Jaebum’s. Even his thoughts don’t feel like his own anymore.

When he picks up his phone, it’s with the intention of scrolling through some of his favorite love songs for inspiration. If they made him feel something, they might be a good guide to follow to make Jinyoung feel something too, right?

But when he glances at his notifications, he finds inspiration there that’s a little more direct.

 

**Jinyoung**  
hey  
did you get home all right?

 

Jaebum feels himself perk up automatically at the sight of Jinyoung’s name. He’s vaguely aware that it’s probably stupid, how quickly he’s grown to feel so fond of Jinyoung that just a basic message from him can make him feel so light and warm — but he can’t stop himself, anyway.

 

**Jaebum**  
Sure did

**Jinyoung**  
are you in bed now hyung~

**Jaebum**  
Not quite

**Jinyoung**  
why not?  
it’s late  
especially for senior citizens

**Jaebum**  
Hey now  
Respect your elders

**Jinyoung**  
what are you gonna do if i don’t ;)

**Jaebum**  
Send you to bed without dessert

**Jinyoung**  
nooo  
you should definitely feed me  
maybe something with cream  
:)

**Jaebum**  
Haha  
I don’t know, isn’t it getting late for babies too?

**Jinyoung**  
hyung!!

**Jaebum**  
Yes, baby?

**Jinyoung**  
oh  
well  
maybe you should come put me to bed~

**Jaebum**  
Hm  
Maybe next time

**Jinyoung**  
oh?  
👀

**Jaebum**  
Why the eyes??

**Jinyoung**  
just  
👀👀👀

**Jaebum**  
Sir please put your eyeballs back in your head

**Jinyoung**  
:(  
fine the peepers are back in

**Jaebum**  
Good  
Now shut them and go to sleep

**Jinyoung**  
wow :(  
you really want to stop talking to me that much huh :(((

**Jaebum**  
You know that’s not it

**Jinyoung**  
:(((((

**Jaebum**  
I’ll message you first thing in the morning  
If that makes you feel better

**Jinyoung**  
really??

**Jaebum**  
I mean if you want me to?

**Jinyoung**  
that’s kind of  
you don’t have to!!  
lol

**Jaebum**  
It’s okay  
I want to

**Jinyoung**  
i see  
anyway!  
i’m headed to bed  
last call to come fuck me in

**Jaebum**  
Haha  
That’s a funny typo  
:)

**Jinyoung**  
right

**Jaebum**  
I can’t come tuck you in though  
They don’t let us out of the old folks’ home this late, sorry

**Jinyoung**  
lol  
cute  
i mean  
nvm  
sleep well, hyung~  
think of me when you do~ ;)

 

Jaebum stares down at the last message. His thumbs hover over the keyboard, hesitating to type out the words that he immediately thought — _I always do._

 

**Jaebum**  
Haha, will do  
Sleep well, Jinyoung-ah  
❤

He sees the message flip over to read and waits breathlessly for a response. Minutes pass and he’s leaning over his phone, nose nearly touching the screen as if a reply might sneak past him if he isn’t vigilant enough.

He’s just about to give up hope and assume that Jinyoung’s gone to sleep when another message comes in.

 

**Jinyoung**  
👉👉

 

Jaebum stares down at his phone screen, torn between being hurt and laughing out loud. It’s that silliness that Jinyoung shows sometimes that’s one of his favorite things about him, but the stark contrast between the little finger guns and the lone heart Jaebum had sent right before is a less amusing type of comical.

Jaebum bites his lip and debates responding — Maybe sending finger guns back is the gesture of romance he needs to sweep Jinyoung off his feet? — but thinks better of it.

He sets his phone down again and stares at his laptop screen. Back to square one.

Except…maybe not quite.

Jaebum’s thoughts keep circling around Jinyoung’s last message — before the finger guns, that is.

_Think of me._

Jinyoung had probably meant it in a suggestive way, because he _always_ does — but Jaebum’s instinctive response had been anything but that.

Jaebum pauses. Sighs. Settles his hands on the keyboard and pecks out a line.

_I think about you all day._

Well, he figures. It’s as good a starting point as any.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Jaebum loses himself the next few days. Even when he’s in class, he’s scribbling in the margins of his notes, mind more caught up with making this song perfect than anything else.

The words come slowly, still, in scattered bursts of inspiration when something reminds him of Jinyoung — the girl next to him in lecture sipping on Starbucks, someone out on the quad blasting a cheesy love song from their parents’ generation, a bin of peaches at the grocery store.

The lyrics that come to him start out as scattered pairs, little couplets that feel almost too sentimental until he corrals them into something softer, something that feels like he could whisper it to Jinyoung before kissing him again and making it _mean_ something this time.

Maybe this can be what changes things, he thinks, his mind almost feverish as it churns out bits and pieces and turns of phrase that all feel like Jinyoung. Maybe the next time he kisses Jinyoung, it’ll be as something more than a friend or a potential fuck. Maybe if he does this one thing well enough, then _he_ can be enough.

It’s probably a little stupid, really, to pin all his hopes on something like a song. But he’s started to realize that maybe he’s always a little stupid.

At least, when it comes to Jinyoung.

 

 

* * *

 

 

**Jaebum**  
Hey man  
Can I ask you to look at the lyrics to a thing I just wrote and tell me if they’re total garbage or not

**Jackson**  
okay well first of all  
I’m sure it’s not garbage  
second of all  
there’s a fee

**Jaebum**  
You have too much faith  
And Christ not this again

**Jackson**  
YOU KNOW THE RULES BOY

**Jaebum**  
Jackson  
I swear to God  
This is the last time I’m going to say this  
I’m not going to be the leather daddy cop in your Blazing Saddle show

**Jackson**  
PLEASE!!!!  
BM ISN’T FREE ON THURSDAYS

**Jaebum**  
Please stop calling him that

**Jackson**  
THAT’S HIS NAME

**Jaebum**  
The nice man is not a bowel movement  
Stop this

**Jackson**  
you’re just mad he doesn’t talk about your titties on Insta

**Jaebum**  
I am not!

**Jackson**  
puffy nips do not a noteworthy rack make

**Jaebum**  
Now you just have to read my lyrics to make up for saying that  
Leather daddy cop is off the table  
Asshole

**Jackson**  
but that means it was on the table at some point 👀

**Jaebum**  
It doesn’t mean a damn thing  
Other than you need to look at these lyrics

**Jackson**  
we’ll stick a pin in the leather daddy discussion

**Jaebum**  
No we won’t

**Jackson**  
lay the lyrics on me daddy

**Jaebum**  
Have you ever considered  
Not being this way

**Jackson**  
no  
gimme

**Jaebum**  
God  
Here

You and I who met by accident  
You never even thought about it but  
You completely fill up my head with thoughts of you  
I think about you all day

Every single day  
No matter where it is  
I want to be with you  
Let's not be apart, even for a short while  
Let's have a promise, the two of us…  
[View All](https://twitter.com/haetbitmark/status/955439703666212865) >

**Jackson**  
oof  
let me get my reading glasses

**Jaebum**  
Shut up  
Jackson?  
I didn’t actually mean to shut up, please give me feedback

**Jackson**  
no no I was just reading  
shit man

**Jaebum**  
What??

**Jackson**  
hold on lemme just  
<https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o3IWTfcks4k>

**Jaebum**  
Is this...Usher  
What year is it

**Jackson**  
the year of you being a cheesy bitch I guess??

**Jaebum**  
I shared my art with you and I get  
Usher

**Jackson**  
U Got It Bad Son

**Jaebum**  
I’m not your son

**Jackson**  
you’re right  
I’m the son

**Jaebum**  
???  
No

**Jackson**  
it’s in my name it must be true

**Jaebum**  
How many years will you continue to milk this joke

**Jackson**  
as long as you want the person you wrote that song for to Milk You 👀

**Jaebum**  
That  
Is disgusting  
There is no milk in this song??

**Jackson**  
yeah but there’s like a strong desire for milking u know 👀👀👀

**Jaebum**  
Can I ban you from ever using that emoji again

**Jackson**  
I can’t be stopped  
you should know this by now

**Jaebum**  
Please…

**Jackson**  
okay but seriously  
whoever this is for  
is damn lucky

**Jaebum**  
Really??

**Jackson**  
for sure  
listen I’m gonna go full emo here for a minute

**Jaebum**  
So business as usual then

**Jackson**  
listen!!!  
I’ve been worried about you getting your heart broken  
especially after I saw Jinyoung had moved on  
I was worried he’d hit it and quit it again, you know?  
but you’ve already found someone to write this for and I’m like

**Jaebum**  
Wait what

**Jackson**  
I’m really happy for you man

**Jaebum**  
Go back  
What was that about Jinyoung?

**Jackson**  
?

**Jaebum**  
I  
Shit I haven’t messaged him since we last hung out  
I was too focused on this  
Fuck it’s been days

**Jackson**  
wait you mean  
oh shit Jaebum I didn’t realize

**Jaebum**  
No just  
Tell me what you meant

**Jackson**  
I’m really really sorry  
I wouldn’t have said it if I knew you were still  
God I’m sorry

**Jaebum**  
Jackson  
Just tell me what you meant by seeing him move on

**Jackson**  
I just meant  
when I was out last night I saw him with that pre-law guy  
Kwan? Kwon?

**Jaebum**  
What do you mean  
With him

**Jackson**  
they were  
dancing and stuff  
you know how frat parties get

**Jaebum**  
Right  
Yeah  
Did he leave with him?

**Jackson**  
I think so but I wasn’t checking or anything  
I really am sorry  
I seriously wouldn’t have been like that if I’d known  
you okay?  
hey  
Jaebum?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please listen to [def.](https://soundcloud.com/off_def/think-of-you?in=off_def/sets/1-vol2) and don't get too mad at us
> 
> i just wanted to make him cry -cherry

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to mia on [twitter](http://twitter.com/mianderings), [tumblr](http://dearings.tumblr.com), or [cc](http://curiouscat.me/mianderings)!
> 
> come talk to cherry on [twitter](http://twitter.com/pechebeom) or [cc](http://curiouscat.me/pechebeom)!


End file.
